


Beautiful & Strange

by graceling_in_a_suit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alien Harry Styles, Angst, Descriptions of Blood, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Scientist Louis, Soulmates, agender/gender nonconforming Harry, coz he's an alien so, it's as campy as it sounds, mi5 makes an appearance, overuse of Carly Rae Jepson's masterpiece album Emotion (2015), smut of the blowjob & handjob variety, thats a wild two tags huh, what kind of scientist you ask? ill never tell :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 03:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceling_in_a_suit/pseuds/graceling_in_a_suit
Summary: Over the top of Niall’s cackles, Louis heard Zayn say: “I think it’s…. A spaceship.”Louis and Niall turned to him in bafflement. Zayn put his hands up in surrender. “What! It’s clearly floating, so it’s not a rock, and it’s not made of wood or plastic or metal.”Louis didn’t even bother telling him that, no, of course it’s not a spaceship, this isn’t the x-files.OR: A story in which Harry is an alien looking to be found, and Louis does the finding. (And vice versa.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [you_explode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_explode/gifts).



> Well then! Here I am at last! 
> 
> First things first I would love to thank my most wonderful and trusted friend Bethany, without whom this would not have happened. You inspire me to create. Thank you. 
> 
> This fic started as a playlist, then it was an edit, and now here we are. As such, it's quite... musical. And if you're interested in following along with the music, I've made a playlist [here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/hwq13hwpkz8q8cviwqas88xcr/playlist/0sW4VyzBrc8oADA9MXKfOo?si=J1tNziVRTv2vrZmMv3b7RQ)  
> Lastly I would like to thank Mr Harold Styles, who is definitely an alien. And we love him for it.

_It’s a wonder, wonder woman_

_You’re so wild and wonderful_

_Cause it seems whenever_

_We’re together_

_The planets all stand still_

_-_ Barbarella, Bob Crewe and Charles Fox

 

Louis was sipping his tea and wiping the sleep from his eyes when his phone rang. He blearily stumbled over from the counter to where it rested on the table, muttering curses as he fumbled to answer it.

“What.” He snapped. 

“Alright, Tommo, no need to bite my head off!” Came an amused voice from the other end.

Louis sighed, hopping up onto the table and swinging his legs. “Sorry, Niall. You know how I am in the mornings.”

Niall laughed. “Aye I do at that! I know it’s early, bud, but I just woke up to some fucking nuts readings from Diana.”

Louis squinted at the calendar hanging on the wall. It was useless to him, because it was still opened to June from three years ago. “Diana? Didn’t we leave her 20 leagues North-East of the drop off? But…” he trailed off.

“There’s not supposed to be anything there? Yeah, I know. Why’dya think I’m calling you before your morning coffee?”

Louis huffed. “I’m off coffee. I’m strictly a tea boy now, Niall. Getting back to my roots.” Louis took a pointed sip of his tea, obnoxiously slurping into the microphone.

“Sure, Tommo. Whatever you say. So are you gonna come out on the _Batman!_ with me to check it out? The kinda print outs I’m looking at, I’m half convinced some idiot shark’s taken a bite out of our beloved Diana or something, and you _know_ how tight the grant committee are with damage reimbursement.” Niall’s voice got a little bit further away, and Louis heard shuffling and curses. 

“Yeah, course I’ll come Nialler. You sending me over the readings?”

Before Niall could answer, Louis’ phone pinged with a dropbox notification. 

“That would be them!” Niall laughed. “Alright, I’ll call up Liam then. You know how willing he is to bend over backwards for us useless nerds, he’ll take us out. Look over those readings, and I’ll be by in an hour to pick you up.”  
  
Louis hummed, thumbing through the first few pages of the document already. Everything looked normal until about 3am, when there was a massive spike of interference and then…. nothing. Either something had interrupted the broadcast, or Niall and Louis needed to throw a funeral for an extremely expensive piece of equipment. Again. “Sounds good, Niall. Thanks,” Louis said distractedly into the phone, and was met with a dial tone. “Rude,” he muttered.

By the time Niall knocked on his door, Louis was showered and dressed. Unfortunately, his mood had not improved. 

“I swear to God, Niall, if Diana’s gone and fallen under a bloody rock or something I’ll strangle her,” Louis said as he swung open the door, striding past Niall and pulling his beanie further down over his ears. “Fuck, it’s freezing. I hate winter.”

“You know, Tommo,” Niall teased as he followed Louis back to his car, “I think I’m gonna have to recommend you go back on the coffee. For me.”

Louis rolled his eyes, pulling open the passenger’s side door. “I’ll cheer up when we find her in one piece, Niall. I’m just pissed because we only bloody put her in the deadest area we could find, and she still manages to get into trouble.” He fiddled around with the heating as Niall started the car. The musical stylings of Carly Rae Jepson blasted through the speakers as Niall pulled the car out onto the road. 

“Are we gonna have to have another chat about scientific research equipment not being a replacement for real human friends, Lou?” Niall asked. Louis sniffed delicately and looked out the window, ignoring the question.

_Gimme love! Gimme love gimme love gimme love gimme touch!_ Said Carly Rae. Niall glanced pointedly from Louis to the radio. 

“Piss off,” said Louis. Niall cackled raucously, and by the time they pulled up the the marina he had Louis singing along to ‘Boy Problems’ with him. 

“Morning, Lima! Sorry to pull you out of your Sunday,” greeted Niall as they neared where the _Batman!_ was docked. Liam was an excellent captain and an even better friend, but he was absolutely not to be trusted with naming things. 

Liam smiled over at them, pausing his conversation with a very moody-looking Zayn. “No problem, mates! Happy to help with all the science, as always!” Liam said, giving both Niall and Louis an enthusiastic hug. Zayn put out the cigarette he’d been smoking and nodded at them politely.

“Alright, Zayn. Liam.” Louis said. “Shall we?” He gestured towards the boat, and waited for them to turn and start walking over to it. To Niall, he hissed, “Why’d you call Zayn?”

Niall looked over, eyebrows raised. “He’s only our bloody Research Assistant, Tommo. What are you on about.”  
  
Louis stopped walking, and grabbed Niall by the arm. “Niall,” he said slowly, “you do know that Zayn can’t swim, right? That’s why he never comes out with us.”

Niall looked furtively over at where Liam was showing Zayn how to properly tie a bowline knot. Zayn looked like he was actually paying attention, which was the most present Louis had ever seen him be. Niall looked back to Louis and pointedly waggled his eyebrows.    


“Niall. You can’t be serious. If something goes wrong he could die.” 

“Yeah, but if something goes _right_ he could die only a little bit. _Le petit morte,_ if you will.” Niall sniggered. Louis tried to frown, then snorted.  
  
“You know what? You’re right. Who am I to stand in the way of love?” Louis threw his arms out dramatically. “Love is a beautiful thing!” Niall rushed to cover his mouth, pulling him towards the _Batman!._ They stumbled aboard, giggling. When Liam and Zayn looked up with questioning eyes, Louis cleared his throat and Niall started gazing very intently at his phone.

“Well…” Liam began. “We’re ready to set off, if you wanna give me a destination?”

Niall followed him into the cabin, pulling up Diana’s last known coordinates. Louis and Zayn were left on the deck, pretending to look busy. As the engine kicked on and the _Batman!_ navigated cleanly out of the bay, Louis clung to the railing at the bow of the boat, watching the sea foam dance around the hull. Zayn cleared his throat behind him. 

“So… where are we going?” He asked unsurely. 

Louis put an arm over his shoulder and squeezed. “Nowhere dangerous, Zaynie, don’t worry. I know you and water aren’t on the best of terms. We just got some weird readings from Diana, need to check her out for damage.”  


Zayn was uncomfortably stiff under Louis’ arm, but when Louis moved to pull away he frowned grumpily. Louis laughed and Zayn rolled his eyes, putting a careful arm around his waist. “S’cold, that’s all.” He said. 

“Yes. Freezing.” Louis nodded, playing along. They stayed like that, resting against the railing, until Zayn suddenly pulled away several minutes later.   
  
“What?” Louis asked blearily, opening his eyes from something that was very much definitely not taking a tiny standing nap. Zayn just nudged Louis, pointing at the horizon. Louis turned his head and squinted, seeing a small dot that was growing larger and larger.

“Niall!” He shouted over his shoulder. “Can you come here for a minute?”

Niall made his way over. “What is it, Lou? We’re nearly there.”

Louis reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling him up next to him. “What do you think that is?”

Niall squinted thoughtfully at the object and hummed knowingly.

“Well?” Louis asked.

Niall looked over at them and laughed. “I have no idea babes, I forgot my glasses this morning.”  
  
“Niall!” Louis screeched, “you fucking drove us here!”

Over the top of Niall’s cackles, Louis heard Zayn say: “I think it’s…. A spaceship.”

Louis and Niall turned to him in bafflement. Zayn put his hands up in surrender. “What! It’s clearly floating, so it’s not a rock, and it’s not made of wood or plastic or metal.”    


Louis looked back over to the object, and Zayn was mostly right. It was definitely floating. It was an odd ovular shape, with a curbed and flowing design. It was also about as big as the _Batman!,_ and seemingly made of some kind of mossy green substance. 

“We’re here, boys!” called Liam from the cabin, bringing the boat to a crawl. He stepped out onto the deck. “Is that your thingy? It’s gotten big.” 

Louis snorted and made his way over to Liam. “It’s not our ‘thingy’, no. But it might have something to do with why Diana went offline. Could you bring us closer to it?”

Liam nodded, and took up his position back at the steering wheel. “IT’S A SPACESHIP, LIAM!” Zayn called. 

Louis laughed at the look of wonder that took over Liam’s face, watching as his eyes bugged out of his head comically. Louis didn’t even bother telling him that, no, _of course it’s not a spaceship_ , _this isn’t the x-files_. Instead, he started to change into his diving gear. “Nialler, fancy a dip? Our Diana’s around here somewhere, but I wanna get a closer look at that thing.”  
  
Niall shook his head, helping Louis zip up his wetsuit. “No way, Tommo. I’m not going anywhere near a spaceship.”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Niall—you, too?” Louis bit out, wrestling with his oxygen tank. “Fine, it’s fine. I’ll go in with a line, just make sure you keep an eye on it.”

“Yeah, ‘course mate.” Niall said. “Be careful, yeah? Get our girl back from E.T.” he smirked. 

Louis narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you using this alien nonsense as a way to get out of helping, by any chance?” He asked suspiciously. 

“What was that, Liam? I’ll be right there!” Niall said hurriedly, walking over to Liam, who had yet to close his gaping mouth. Louis snorted fondly and secured his lifeline. 

“Alright, you jokers, if I’m not out in two minutes pull me up.” Louis yelled, checking over all of his gear and leaning against the starboard railing. He looked at each of them for a nod of confirmation, pleased to find that they took his request seriously in the midst of all the excitement about the… well. The unidentified floating object.

_Dammit,_ Louis cursed to himself as he gracefully flopped over the side of the _Batman!_ and into the icy cold sea. _That still makes UFO._

The water in this area was cloudy but empty. Louis looked around at his surroundings, pleased to find a soft blinking light a little ways below him. At least Diana’s power was still working. So.. why wasn’t she transmitting? Louis kicked his way over to the UFO. It was hard to miss, given that it was—Louis could now see—a sphere of about 15 by 15 metres and only partly submerged. As Louis got closer to it, he saw that while he was right about the exterior being a dark shade of green, it definitely wasn’t made out of moss. It wasn’t moving other than with the tide, and it didn’t seem to be in any danger of sinking (and dragging Louis down with it), so he decided to swim right up to it. 

The first thing that became apparent was that it was definitely hollow, though Louis could see no clear entrances or openings. The outside of it was a thin, skin-like substance. It also looked very heavily burned. If Louis was going to put any stock into Zayn’s ridiculous spacecraft theory then… he supposed it could have been burned entering the atmosphere. But how should such a thin, translucent material be conducive to space travel? Louis couldn’t believe he was even considering this when he should have been swimming down to retrieve Diana and then getting the hell away from mysterious floating green things. 

But… he was also a scientist. And a very curious person. And, admittedly, a bit of an idiot. Louis blamed all three of those attributes for what he did next. He ungloved his right hand, and raised it to the object. He was surprised to find that it was made of something that felt as hard as stone. He was pondering this discovery when he caught movement on the other side of the object. _Inside_ the object. Louis pressed his diving goggles against it, trying to get a better look at the darkened interior. 

Suddenly, there was a face on the other side. Louis reared his head back, but he left his hand in place. If Louis wasn’t a scientifically curious idiot, he would have been running for the hills. As it was, he studied the face of the creature in front of him. It was… remarkably human. It had a mouth, ears, a floppy head of wet hair, two eyes and… a very naked, very human body. Louis snapped his gaze quickly back up to its face. Its eyes were wide, focused right on Louis. Louis couldn’t tell if its skin was a soft green, or if that was just an illusion caused by the tint of the wall in between them. It titled its head to the side, then moved an arm up slowly to place a hand to the wall right where Louis’ lay, pressed against his side of the ship.

Faced with the overwhelming evidence in front of him, Louis was no longer capable of denying that this was a spaceship.

_Fuck. Maybe this is The X-Files after all,_ he thought. 

Louis had just flicked his gaze to examine the interior of the ship behind the creature when he was interrupted by a strong tug from his lifeline, sending him soaring back towards the surface. The last thing Louis saw before he was pulled out of the water was the wide blinking eyes of the creature, greener than emeralds. 

“Are you okay, Tommo?” Panted Niall as he pulled Louis to him over the railing. Liam offered a steadying hand as Louis wobbled frantically, trying to tear his mask off. Zayn was hovering nervously in the background, the end of Louis’ lifeline still in his hand. 

“Fuck!” Louis yelled once his face was free. “Niall! Fuck! You’ve gotta let me go back down. Right now.” Louis grabbed Niall’s shoulders. “There’s an alien in the spaceship. A fucking alien!”

Niall laughed nervously and patted Louis’ hands, looking to Liam for help. Liam stepped forward, excitement clear as day on his face. 

“Louis, I was joking about it being a spaceship. You know that, right?” Zayn interrupted slowly. His hands were fidgeting around, tapping his pockets for a cigarette. He looked up to guiltily meet Liam’s betrayed gaze.

“It doesn’t matter that you were kidding, Zayn. Because it _is_ a spaceship and there is _also_ an alien.” Louis moved to put his mask and mouthpiece back on. 

“Louis, stop—Louis!” Niall batted Louis’ hands away from his face. “You’re not making any sense. Would you just calm down for a bit, please?” 

“Guys—” Liam said.

“I’m not gonna bloody calm down, Niall! Excuse me for panicking about seeing proof of extraterrestrial life on my fucking day off! Will you just _listen to me!?”_

“Guys!”

“Louis, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. But maybe you just saw a fish and—“

“Guys!!”

“A FISH!? Niall, I swear I’ll—“

“GUYS!” Liam shouted. 

Niall and Louis snapped their heads angrily towards him, and even Zayn looked up from the corner he’d snuck off to with his cigarette.

“What!” Louis shouted back. 

Liam pointed at something off the side of the boat, and Louis snapped his head towards it. It was a pair of green eyes attached to the half-submerged face of the creature from the ship. Louis had no idea how it had gotten out, or how long it had been floating there watching them. 

“What the fuck…” Niall muttered. Zayn walked up behind them, his cigarette forgotten in his hand. 

“See!” Louis whispered fiercely, not moving his head from the creature. Its eyes snapped to him, and it rose slowly out of the water until its torso was visible. It didn’t seem to be treading water, or moving any limbs in order to stay afloat, which added to the eeriness of the scene. 

Without the wall of the ship in between them, Louis could see that its skin wasn’t actually green. In fact, from its head to its toes it looked exactly like a human, but there was still something very unsettling about it. Almost like it was human-adjacent in some way that Louis couldn’t put his finger on. Like… what you’d think a human might look like if you’d only ever seen pictures: a little _too_ perfect. And it just floated in the water next to the _Batman!,_ watching them. 

The silence was broken with a muttered “Fuck!” from Zayn as he happened to glance down and notice his wasted cigarette. Everyone’s eyes snapped to him. Niall, oddly enough, started laughing. 

“Boys!” He cheered in between snorts, “we’ve found the weirdest fucking fish ever. The university’s gonna give us _so much money.”_

“No.” Louis frowned. “We’re not telling anyone about this. Absolutely not.” He shook himself out of the stupor he’d been in. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. Everyone, listen up. We’re getting Diana, and we’re getting…” Louis glanced over at the creature, who met his gaze evenly. “Them… And we’re going home. And we’re not going to tell a soul what we found here today. Got it?” 

He looked at each of them, waiting for their nods of conformation. “Good. Right. I'll be right back.” 

Louis leant against the railing as he fiddled with his mask, then when everything was reattached he flopped back into the sea. He sped past the creature, down towards the blinking light, finding Diana tucked under a thin layer of sand between a couple of rocks. When he pulled her out, he noticed she was mostly unscathed—a couple of new dents that were shallow enough not to be too worried about. Still nothing to explain why she wasn’t broadcasting. When he swam back up to the boat, he saw that the creature was still floating eerily where Louis had last seen them. Louis frowned, breaking the surface a few metres to their left. He kicked his flippers easily beneath him. The creature looked over to him. They still weren’t moving. 

Louis pulled his mask off. “Niall! Grab Diana please,” Louis said, passing her over to him.

With his arms now free, Louis swam closer to the alien. The _alien._  


“Louis, be careful,” he heard Zayn hiss.

Lous stopped only half a metre from the creature, close enough to see the little gold specks in their eyes. He tried to put his most friendly smile on. The creature studied his face for a second, then broke out into a wide smile of their own. _Christ… they’re cute,_ thought Louis. 

He slowly extended a hand towards them. “Can you come with me, please?” He said quietly. He didn’t really have any hope that they would understand him, but he didn’t think it would hurt to be polite. This was, after all, the first impression this being was receiving of Planet Earth. Louis stifled a hysterical laugh at the thought, trying to keep his face friendly and comforting. They tilted their head to the side like they did when they’d first seen him, and—still smiling, which was getting to be disturbing—placed their hand on top of Louis’. It was… comically large in comparison. Louis tried to ignore the odd tingling sensation of their skin, which felt just as hyperreal as the rest of them, and wrapped his fingers around theirs. He tugged them gently with him as he pushed backwards towards the boat. It was hard to coordinate without turning around, but Louis managed. 

The creature looked up to the boat where the rest of the boys were waiting with bated breath, then back to Louis. Then, they tightened their grip on Louis’ hand and lifted them both out of the water. Louis’ breath caught in his throat and he used his spare hand to grab onto the creature’s shoulder in panic. He watched as they floated above the sea and up over the railing of the boat, tuning out Niall, Liam and Zayn’s exclamations of wonder. Louis was set down gently onto the deck of the _Batman!_ , and he took a deep breath. Then he sat down. Heavily. The alien copied his movements, hand still clasped with Louis’.

“Holy shit,” said Louis from where his head rested on his knee. Niall patted his back comfortingly. 

“He can fly!” Liam whisper-yelled excitedly. 

“Shut up, Liam. They’re an alien, they might not have a gender,” Louis snapped. His stomach was still turning unpleasantly from his few airborne seconds, and the rocking motion of the boat wasn’t helping any. Louis moaned pathetically into his knees. The hand that Louis was holding was pulled delicately from his grasp, and a few seconds later it joined Niall’s hand on his back. It was making an awkward patting motion, and Niall snickered indelicately. 

When Louis no longer felt like he was in danger of emptying his stomach, he lifted his head and looked around. The alien was still sitting in front of him and smiling widely. It had either grown dimples since Louis had last looked, or Louis hadn’t been paying attention. Though… Louis couldn’t really see how how could’ve missed them, since they were basically big enough to be craters in their face. Unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten any less cute. 

“You good now, Tommo?” Niall asked.

“Yeah, thanks Nialler,” Louis said looking over his shoulder. “Did you put Diana in her case?” 

Niall pointed at Zayn, who Louis now saw was carrying the reinforced travel case that housed their very expensive, very broken equipment. 

“We setting off then, captain?” Liam asked. He was still throwing awe-struck glances at the alien every few seconds, but otherwise seemed to be coherent. 

Louis snorted. “Yes, Liam. But—you’re the captain. It’s your boat."  
  
The other three all exchanged knowing glances. The creature watched, then attempted to exchange a knowing glance with a bundle of rope to their left. It only mostly worked.

“Alright, whatever. Just get us home, Lima. And Niall, Zayn—would you find them some clothes for fucks sake? Or a blanket? They’re tits to the wind and it’s bloody freezing,” Louis ordered, getting to his feet. The creature mimicked him, standing to their full height in front of Louis. They were yet to stop smiling. They were also, Louis noted with annoyance, a good seven or eight centimetres taller than him. Of course. 

“Got any other magical powers I should know about, love?” Louis asked, crossing his arms.    


The creature just smiled at him. “Love!” they repeated excitedly. 

Their voice was a lot deeper than Louis was expecting, but their attempt at communication—even though it was obvious they hadn’t understood a word he’d said—made Louis break out into one of his rare, ultra-crinkly-eyed smiles. These were normally reserved for animals and children. Apparently that list now extended to cute aliens.

Louis tilted his head to the side, thinking. “Where did you come from, hmm?” He asked softly. They hummed back and smiled.

“Operation: Clothes for Alien has not gone well, lads!” Announced Niall. He and Zayn had been rooting around in everyone’s bags, and then storage compartment on the boat. “We’ve two options, neither of which are remotely ready for what passes as polite society in these parts.”   
  
Zayn nodded, stepping forward. “We’ve got Stained Blanket, a classic and personal favourite, or Less Stained But Much Smaller Blanket, a dark horse in the ring. Your choice, Lou,” he drawled.

Louis laughed, bending to remove his flippers that he’d just remembered he was wearing. “S’not up to me, let them choose.” 

Zayn shrugged, and turned to the alien. He held up one blanket in each hand for them to inspect. The creature looked over to Louis in confusion, but Louis was distracted trying to wrangle himself out of his wetsuit. They turned back to the blankets and reached for one of them. It was a soft looking pink fabric with small flowers printed on it. 

“Ah! They’ve gone for Less Stained But Much Smaller! Clearly a being of taste and risk,” declared Niall in his best commentator voice.   
  
“Um, they can keep that!” Said Liam as the creature brought the blanket up to its face and rubbed their cheek on it.

Louis pulled on his sweats and jumper, jamming his beanie over his still-damp hair. “Here,” he said, coming over to the creature. “Wrap it around you, like this.” He gently took the blanket from their hands and pulled it over their shoulders. The ‘less stained but much smaller’ blanket lived up to its name, and reached a very high point on their thighs. Still, they beamed at each of the boys and pulled the fabric tighter around them. Zayn made a choked noise, like he was trying very hard not to laugh. 

“Don’t they look dashing!” Said Louis, smiling innocently at Zayn. The alien made a strange humming noise in response.   
  
“Very dashing!” Said Niall, completely deadpan. “The spitting image of my great-aunt Harriet!”

At that, Zayn completely lost it. He giggled unattractively and repeated ‘Harriet!’ To himself. Even Liam was laughing, though he was a little distracted by steering the ship back into the bay.

The alien’s dimples got deeper, which was not something Louis had thought would be possible, and they happily repeated, “Harriet!”

Niall and Zayn were clinging to each other in their hysterics, and Liam was cackling wildly. Louis snorted fondly, glad to see them bouncing back from the stress of the day (even if he was slightly worried that Niall wasn’t breathing). Turning to the alien, Louis confided, “don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous of your new threads.” 

They turned their bright smile over to Louis and said again, slower this time, “Harriet.” Louis squinted thoughtfully at them.    


“Alright, boys. It’s official.” He called as Liam manoeuvred the _Batman!_ into its docking area. “Their name is Harry, in honour of Niall’s dearly departed Great-Aunt.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Whatever you do, I’ll do it too_

_Show me everything and tell me how_

_It all means something_

_And yet nothing to me._

\- Strangers Like Me, Phil Collins

 

Getting Harry off the boat was fairly easy—Louis just grabbed their hand again and they followed quite willingly. The current problem was getting Harry inside Niall’s car. The door to the back seat was open, and Louis had already climbed inside as a demonstration, but Harry stayed stubbornly standing. They were glancing between the front of the car and the driver’s seat, where Niall was scrolling absently through twitter. He’d lost interest in the proceedings several minutes ago. 

Louis sighed frustratedly. He climbed out of the car and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Their skin was warm through the material of the blanket. 

“Harry. Darling. Buttercup. You giant space idiot. The car is not going to hurt you.” 

Harry stared at Louis, wide-eyed. Louis slowly got back into the car, maintaining eye contact with his hand outstretched. He was very tempted to start making high pitched noises and repeat ‘come on! Come on!’ Because the jury was still out on whether or not Harry was some kind of space dog and, quite frankly, it would be very surprising if they were. 

Niall glanced in the rearview mirror and huffed, turning on the radio. 

Harry’s gaze snapped to the sudden noise, then back to Louis. They reached a hand out to grab Louis’, and Louis had a shining moment of hope that perhaps he could get on with his day (maybe get home and have a goddam nap), but instead of joining Louis in the car, Harry tugged on his hand fiercely until he was pulled right back out of it. 

“What—“ Louis exclaimed. Harry opened their—still very small—blanket and bundled Louis up into their chest, closing their arms around him. “What.” Louis repeated, this time muffled into Harry’s neck where his face was squished. Harry turned them and backed away from the car, making a low menacing grumble in their throat. Niall cackled and switched off the radio. 

“Don’t think they like cars, mate!” He called. “You might have to walk it!”    


Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and swayed them slightly. Harry hadn’t let up on their iron grip, but they did stop making the rumbling noise. Louis manoeuvred his head from out of Harry’s neck and called to Niall over his shoulder, “I’m not walking home while their dick’s out, Niall, we’ll get fucking arrested! I think I saw some spare sweats in the boot, could you grab those?” 

Niall called “on it!”, and Louis heard him rustling about and cursing. 

“Harry,” Louis began, with a patience that he didn’t know he was capable of. “Could you let me go, please?” He was still firmly tucked between the blanket and Harry’s naked body. He was trying very, very hard not to think about it.

Harry made a low humming noise, but didn’t release him. Louis tried to pull back a little, and was surprised to find Harry didn’t stop him. Once he was safely out of the danger zone, so to speak, Louis turned to Niall to help with his trousers search. He got hit in the face with said trousers for his troubles. 

“Shit! Sorry!” Niall laughed. 

Louis pulled them from his head and glared playfully over at him. He turned back to Harry, trousers in hand, when it occurred to him he was going to have to put them on them. Harry was glaring over Louis’ shoulder at Niall’s car, but turned to smile at Louis when they noticed that his attention was on them once again. Louis looked at the trousers he was holding, then at Harry, and then up at the heavens for strength.

“Alright.” He said, kneeling. “Harry. Give me your leg.” Louis was fairly used to dressing people from his many years as a hands-on big brother, so he quickly gathered up the left trouser leg into his hands and guided Harry’s foot through the hole, then did the same for the other.

“Mate, this is the most confused I’ve ever seen someone look at the concept of pants,” contributed Niall. Louis glanced up at Harry, breaking into laughter at the expression of pure indignation on their face. 

“I know, babe, pants are the worst.” Louis said as he guided the elastic over Harry’s hips. “It’s only for a little while. And don’t forget we could have avoided this if you’d just gotten in the car!” Louis waggled a finger in Harry’s face. The outrage at wearing pants seemed to melt away at Louis’ words; they were now back to smiling beatifically. And just like that, all was forgiven. 

“Thanks ever-so-much for your help, Niall,” Louis said, turning to him. Niall gave a sarcastic bow and pulled the driver’s side door open. 

“I’m going the fuck to bed, don’t call me for at least fourteen hours, good luck with the alien!” Niall rushed out, jumping into the seat and driving away before Louis could respond. 

Harry made the same aggressive rumble at the car as it drove away, and didn’t let up until it was out of sight. Louis sighed, placed a guiding hand on their back, and started walking. 

 

@.@

 

The walk back to Louis’ apartment was exhausting. Harry seemed to constantly want to stop and look at things. Every shop they passed, every person, every tree and bird and weirdly shaped cloud had to be gawked at. Thankfully, they’d stopped growling at every passing car after about the 30th one that drove past, and no one gave them too weird of a look. As cute as it was to see Harry’s face light up at babies and dogs and traffic lights, Louis felt a train of relief crash into him as the stumbled into his apartment. Then, he pulled off his wellies and collapsed face-first onto the couch, and the train’s wheels ran him over. Death by relief. 

“Make yourself at home,” he mumbled to Harry. 

“Rrrnrnnmmmmm,” said Harry.

Louis sighed dreamily into his couch cushion, then abruptly fell asleep. 

He jolted awake some time later, and whipped his head around. It was dark outside, and there was no sign of Harry. 

“Shit!” Louis cursed, jumping to his feet. “Harry!” He called, walking from his living room to his kitchen, then his bedroom. “Harry!”

He heard a voice parrot back “Harry!” from somewhere in his apartment, and let out a breath of air. He looked around some more, checking his bathroom and fire escape and coming up blank. 

“Where are you, you curly haired space cunt,” he muttered to himself. 

“Harry!” A voice agreed to his left. Louis whipped around, but the only thing there was his succulent sitting on the windowsill, and an open window behind it. Had he… left that open? He ran to the window and looked out. There, floating outside the apartment, butt fucking naked, was Harry. They were smiling away at a very dirty looking pigeon that was nesting on the ledge to the left of the window and making soft cooing noises at it.

“Harry….” Louis began slowly. “Could you come back inside, please?”  


Harry turned to him and frowned. The pigeon cooed and ruffled its feathers. Harry glanced back at it and giggled.

“Jesus Christ I can’t deal with this,” said Louis, pulling his head back into the apartment. He ran a hand over his face and set the kettle to boil. A glance at the microwave told him it was midnight, and a glance at the window told him that Harry was still communing with the local wildlife. Wonderful. Time for dinner, then.

By the time Harry gracelessly crawled back inside, Louis was mostly through making a simple pasta dish. Not knowing if Harry even ate food but still wanting to be a good host, Louis had made enough for two. 

Louis looked over as Harry pulled themselves up from where they’d accidentally crashed to the ground in front of the window and laughed. He strained the pasta into the sink and dumped it into the pot of sauce, still chuckling. Then, he turned off the heat and fetched a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He glanced over at Harry again as he portioned out two servings. Harry was bent over the window frame, poking his succulent and sniffing at it interestedly. 

“It’s a plant, yeah? Like the trees outside.” Louis gestured at some trees visible from the window that were lining the road below. 

Harry hummed, looking to where Louis had pointed, then to the succulent in front of their face. Then, bizarrely, he took a bite out of it. Louis barked out a laugh in shock, and Harry reared back, an expression of disgust on their face. They spat out the small chunk of succulent into one of their hands, holding it out to Louis.

“No, thank you.” Louis said, as politely as he could manage. “Also, please don’t eat my plant. Here,” he pointed at the kitchen table. “Sit down and I’ll give you something that tastes better than Tchaikovsky over there.” 

Harry delicately put the rejected segment of succulent back in the pot, next to a now visible bite mark. They walked over to the table and floated up to stand on top of it. 

Louis was now eye level with their naked crotch. Harry beamed down at him. Louis gulped and clutched the bowls to his chest as Harry sat down awkwardly right on top of some of Louis’ research notes. He eyed them sadly, but passed over the bowl to Harry’s waiting hands. They were, after all, sitting down where Louis had pointed. As sad as Louis was to see the untimely demise of his analysis of last weeks data from Olivia, he was incredibly impressed at the speed to which Harry seemed to be picking up English. 

Louis blew into his pasta, and Harry copied him. Louis lifted a forkful of it into his mouth and chewed. Harry did the same. Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry, then quickly spun around in a circle. Harry floated up off the table, then spun around slowly. Louis stuck his tongue out at them, and Harry giggled, shovelling more food into their mouth. They seemed to be eating tongue-first, like they didn’t quite trust their lips to close over the fork without some extra backup. 

Louis tried to focus on eating. It was past midnight and he needed to be up at six tomorrow for work; he absolutely did _not_ have the time to be endeared by quirky alien houseguests. When he’d finished his pasta, he waited until Harry was done too then collected Harry’s bowl and fork. 

“Alright,” he said, putting them in the sink for later, “do you need sleep? Probably, right?” Harry frowned and dangled their ridiculously long legs over the edge of the table. 

“Rrrrrrmmmmm,” they offered. Every growling, humming noise they made seemed to be slightly different, which did not help Louis at all. 

“Okay…” said Louis. He looked over to his bedroom, with his messy queen bed, then over to the couch. It was only a three seater—just barely long enough for Louis to sleep comfortably on. 

“Rrrmmm,” said Harry. 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Louis walked over to the couch and started pulling the cushions off. He stumbled into this room, arms full, and dumped them all over the floor. Then, he crawled under his bed and got out his spare comforter and extra sheets. Harry watched curiously from the doorway as Louis constructed a comfortable little nest of pillows and blankets on the floor to the side of his bed. “There!” Louis exclaimed once he finished. He walked over to Harry, grabbed their hand, and tugged them over to it. 

Harry hummed again. 

“You can sleep here tonight, love, alright? I’m gonna be on the bed, because I have to work tomorrow and my back will kill me if I spend another hour on that couch—“ Harry nodded along, and Louis wondered if they were actually getting anything he was saying, “—but you can sleep right here, I made a nest for you, see? Just like your pigeon friend, yeah?” Harry frowned down at the pile of cushions.

“Coo! Coo!” Louis said, pointing to it. If he was any less exhausted, he might have felt ridiculous. At least…he would have until he saw the grin of recognition that took over Harry’s face. They dove right into the nest, snuggling around and making themselves comfortable. Louis was worried for a second that they’d hurt themselves jumping headfirst into what was essentially just a more comfy version of his hardwood floor, but they seemed content. Louis watched as Harry sniffed around in the pile and rubbed their face on everything. 

“You’re not doing anything to convince me you’re not a dog, Haz,” Louis threw out over his shoulder as he went to grab his phone from the living room. 

Harry drawled “coo, coo,” in a scathing imitation of Louis’ attempt at pigeon noises. 

“Shut up!” Louis called, laughing. “Alien’s got sass,” he muttered to himself as he turned on his phone.

Huh, 5 missed calls from Liam, 2 from Zayn, and about 30 text messages from both of them. Louis thumbed through the texts, finding them to all be variations on ‘how’s Harry are they still an alien?’. Louis shook his head, plugging the phone in on his nightstand. They could sweat it out til morning, when Louis would need one of them to come and alien-sit. Based off of today’s actions, he couldn’t trust Harry to not try and eat all his things if left to their own devices. Louis pulled off his shirt, sweats and socks, crawling into bed in just his pants. If Harry had any qualms about nudity then they would be the world’s biggest hypocrite, after all. Louis shuffled over to the edge of the bed, a _goodnight_ ready on his lips, only to find Harry fast asleep. They were snoring softly, face buried in a blanket. Louis smiled to himself, and turned out the light. 

 

@.@

 

Louis’ alarm brought him to consciousness at 6am sharp the next morning. He groaned, throwing an arm out and patting around on his nightstand. His phone magically appeared in his hand, and he squinted at it, using a clumsy finger to silence the sound of Shaggy’s _It Wasn’t Me._ He flopped an arm over his head. 

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed creeping with girl next door,” sung a voice from above him. 

“You have a wonderful singing voice, Harry,” said Louis incoherently. “Harry!” He exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. The alien in question was floating cross-legged in the air next to the bed. They had small red lines on their face and chest from sleeping pressed too close to lots of different pillows and sheets, and—as usual—a prize-winning grin on their face. 

“Picture this, we were both butt naked banging on the bathroom floor,” they continued. Harry truly did have a wonderful singing voice; it was rich and melodic and warm. The effect was completely ruined by Louis’ horrific realisation the the first Earth song Harry had ever heard was fucking _It Wasn’t Me._ God. That song had been Louis’ alarm for months but he’d never hated it as much as this very moment. 

“Harry, babe, please don’t sing that. I’ll play you a better one, come on,” Louis crawled out of bed, awkwardly manoeuvring around a still-floating Harry.

“How could I forget that I had given her an extra key,” sung Harry. 

“How are you remembering all of this?” Muttered Louis, searching through the piles of research notes and scientific journals that were crowding the kitchen table. He pulled out his laptop victoriously, waving it in Harry’s face before they could start the next line.  


“Yes, yes, I’m very impressed with you, Harry. But _you’ll_ be impressed when you see this!” Louis said, pulling up youtube. He clicked on the video he’d searched for and turned the computer around to face Harry, who had moved to stand close behind him. Very close. 

Louis cleared his throat and went to put the kettle on, leaving Harry to watch—rapt—as a young David Bowie performed _Starman_. 

“This one’s about you, darling,” Louis said cheekily as he prepared himself some tea. “Would the Starbaby like some tea?” Louis glanced over his shoulder, but Harry was utterly absorbed in the video, eyes wide and focused. “Tea it is.” Louis decided, fetching a second mug. 

_Surely even aliens like a good cuppa,_ he thought. He hummed along to the chorus as he mixed in a dash of milk—no sugar—to both cups. As the last notes of the song played, Harry let out a truly upsetting whine. They looked over at Louis pathetically. 

“Here,” Louis laughed, “drink this, dummy.” He pressed replay on the video, and Harry hummed contentedly into their tea. “So you like Bowie, then?” Louis asked, rhetorically. “You’ve got great taste. I’ll make you a playlist in between classes, alright?” Louis patted Harry’s shoulder, then set off to get ready for work. He made sure to get in a quick call to Zayn and Liam to ask them to come over that day and watch Harry, and they were both very enthusiastic. Well. Liam was enthusiastic. Zayn agreed to do it without any begging on Louis’ part, which was what passed for enthusiastic for Zayn in the morning. 

Harry was still watching _Starman_ by the time Louis was showered and dressed. They were even still watching it by the time Liam and Zayn arrived. When Louis heard the knock on the door, he gathered all his things and hurriedly kissed Harry on the cheek. Harry blushed and raised a hand to the spot.    


“Try not to eat my cactus again, Hazza!” He called over his shoulder as he opened the door. To Liam and Zayn, he said: “they’re all yours,” and rushed out the door. If he missed his bus, he’d definitely be late for his first lecture. That was a very bad look when you were the one giving said lecture. 

 

@.@

 

Throughout his day at work, he received text updates from Zayn and Liam. They were absurdly specific and enthusiastically misspelled on Liam’s part—such as, _I shwd Harry the tv & he tried to go into it bt he couldn’t becuse it’s a tv and now we’re watching pwr rangers reruns together_— and cryptic to the point of being sinister on Zayn’s: _harry rly doesn’t like blood_ or _you don’t have a cat, right?._ By the time lunch rolled around, Louis was just about ready to give up work and rush the fuck home. 

He headed to the teacher’s lounge instead, where a few of the other science faculty professors were loitering and chatting. He spotted Steve and Niall sitting together at a table in the corner, and made his way over. 

“Alright, lads?” Louis greeted, taking a seat. 

Niall winked at him very exaggeratedly and said, “hey, Tommo! How was your weekend?”

Louis gave him a dry look and took a bite of his sandwich. 

“Well, mine was great!” Steve piped up. His hair was up in a nice bun today, and he looked as content as always. Louis smiled at him fondly.   
  
“Mine was boring as fuck,” stated Niall. If Louis didn’t know otherwise, he would have thought it was the truth. “Oh, by the way, Lou, I had a look at our Diana. She’s working fine now, she’d been transmitting all night because I didn’t think to turn her off.”

Steve frowned. “Was she not working?”

Louis waved it off. “She got into a spot of bother the other day, don’t worry about it. Are you sure she’s fine, Niall?” 

Niall nodded, shrugging. Louis gazed pensively out the window as he worked on his sandwich. 

He took a final bite and wiped his hands. “Random question, boys, but go with me for a second,” he started, leaning his elbows on the table. “So—hypothetically, o’course, what would you do if you found an alien that had crash-landed on Earth?” 

Niall choked, spitting out his water. Steve hummed in thought, stroking his beard.

“How friendly is the alien?” He asked. 

“Very friendly. Almost too friendly, but not at all threatening.” Said Louis. He thumped Niall on the back. 

“Does it want to stay here, or does it want to go back home?” Asked Steve seriously. 

Louis considered this. “How would you know?”

“Hmmm. Good question. It can’t understand us, right?”

Louis smiled. “Well, it could learn. But… what would you do until then? Hypothetically.”

Niall butted in, voice slightly croaky. “I’d get ‘em a bunch of movies and shit, give ‘em a crash course in humanity.”

“You would, would you?” Louis asked innocently. “Prepared to commit to that, Nialler?”

Niall snorted, but nodded. Steve pulled out a piece of paper from one of his various pockets and started writing.   
  
“Watcha got there, Aoki?” Louis asked cheekily.

Steve laughed, then turned the paper over to Louis. It was a short list of different locations—parks, beaches, tourist traps. “Those are the places I’d take my alien friend. Hypothetically.” 

Louis smiled, pocketing it. “Brilliant.”

 

@.@

 

Louis stared at the door to his apartment. He tossed his keys between his hands. He was a little bit terrified he’d open it and find his apartment was a complete mess or, worse, that he’d hallucinated Harry and the place was empty. 

Before he could make up his mind, the door swung open. On the other side was Harry, so at least he wasn’t hallucinating: Harry was still here, still very tall, and still very smiley. At least they were wearing pants now. 

“Hello,” said Louis, blinking in surprise. 

“Hello.” Said Harry. They were frowning in concentration. “Welcome home, Louis.” Their face melted into a proud smile, and they turned to look over their shoulder. Louis followed their gaze and saw Zayn and Liam watching from the living room and giving Harry an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“We taught them that!” Said Liam, grinning.

“Great job, Harry,” said Zayn.

“Yeah, great job Hazza,” added Louis, rustling their hair as he walked past them into the apartment. “What else did you get up to today?” This Louis directed at Liam and Zayn as he put his bag down and toed off his shoes.

“We watched tv for a bit, and then we went shopping, and Harry made us food—“  


“What?” Louis interrupted.

“Yeah! They cooked us pasta, I’ve got no idea how they learned to do that, but it tasted great.” Liam said.

Louis walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was stocked full of veggies and fruit and other such things that Louis would probably forget to eat. Sure enough, there was also a Tupperware container of pasta. Louis got it out and sniffed. It was the exact same recipe as he used last night. He glanced over to where Harry was standing in the doorway. 

“You made this, love?” He asked curiously. 

Harry smiled. “Rrrrmmmmmmm,” he said, pointing between Louis and the pasta. 

Louis laughed and put the container in the microwave. “Alright, smartass, I’m eating it. So you went outside with them?” The last part was directed at Zayn and Liam, who were packing their things up in the other room. 

“Just down the road a little. They even put a shirt and trousers on and everything! Very well behaved.” Liam appeared behind Harry and tickled their bare hips. They squealed adorably and ran over to hide behind Louis, sticking their tongue out at Liam as they went. 

“Well behaved? Liam, Harry’s an alien not a dog.” Louis reminded him, blowing on his now-heated pasta. “Don’t let him bully you, babe. He’s a softie,” Louis said over his shoulder to Harry. Harry hummed in response, putting their head on top of Louis. Louis looked up, tilting his head, trying to spot them. Harry hummed a grumpy noise, so Louis laughed and tilted his head back down. 

“You’re off then, lads?” Louis asked, taking a careful bite of his pasta and trying not to shake Harry in the process. 

“Yep!” Zayn called, appearing behind Liam. “We’re…. Doing dinner.” He was utterly failing at sounding casual. Liam grinned at him, then waved to Louis and Harry. “We’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Louis frowned. “Don’t you have classes, Zayn?” 

“Took the week off!” Zayn threw over his shoulder as he left the apartment, Liam in tow. 

Louis huffed. “Week off. Can you believe this, Harry?” 

“Rmmmm,” said Harry. 

“Exactly!” Cried Louis, finishing his pasta. “Are you gonna get off me anytime soon, by the way?” Louis reached blindly behind himself and poked Harry in the stomach. Harry leapt back and growled playfully. Louis tried not to smile ridiculously, sniffing and fixing his fringe. He put his empty pasta bowl in the sink, turning to Harry.

“So.” He began, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re from outer space or summat, yeah? Do you want to stay on Earth or do you have a family you want to go back home to? Have you got parents? Children? A life partner? Several life partners and several children?”

Harry tilted his head to the side and frowned. Louis was hopeful that they’d learned enough English to at least understand what Louis had asked, so when Harry opened their mouth he wasn’t expecting a huge yawn to overtake their face. 

“Of course.” Said Louis, shaking his head. 

“Rrrrrrrrrmmmm,” replied Harry, rubbing a clumsy hand on their face. 

“Yeah, yeah, s’bed time for ET, I get it,” Louis strutted forward and ushered Harry into the bedroom. “New world, lots to see, lots to process, leaves even the biggest meanest alien wanting a nap, huh?” 

Harry ignored him, diving head first into their blanket nest, legs akimbo.

Louis cackled into his hand. “Calm down, Bambi! Awww, are you ok?” 

Harry’s hand stuck up over the bed, giving Louis a thumbs up. “Christ, you learn quick,” muttered Louis, reaching for the door-handle “I’ll have to remember not to do any lewd gestures where you can see, hmmm?” He pulled the door mostly shut, calling out “good night!” before closing it. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Yours was the first face that I saw_

_I think I was blind before I met you_

_I don’t know where I am_

_I don’t know where I’ve been_

_But I know where I want to go._

_-_ First Day of My Life, Bright Eyes

 

Harry’s first week on Planet Earth passed in much the same way. Liam and Zayn kept them company while Louis was at work, and Louis talked to them as if Harry could understand him when he got home. Although… as each day passed, it became more and more obvious that Harry’s fluency was progressing at an incredible rate. 

On Tuesday, Louis came home to find his living room absolutely flooded with pieces of paper. He picked a few up from the ground near the coffee table, where Harry was currently sitting crosslegged next to Zayn. The first drawing appeared to be of a phone and a computer. Louis tilted his head to the side, glancing over to where Harry was scribbling something on another piece of paper. Liam was curled up in the arm chair behind Zayn, fast asleep.

“Art day?” He asked unsurely. Zayn looked up and grinned. 

“I didn’t even need to teach ‘em anything, Lou! They’re proper wicked at drawing,” he said excitedly, picking up a stack and waving them at Louis. 

Louis turned over the next drawing in his hand. This one was of two people kissing. 

“Did I miss the talk about the birds and the bees?” He asked cheekily. Zayn snorted and shook his head.

“Nah, they’re just drawing shit they’ve seen on tv or around outside, asking for the names of everything,” he supplied.

Harry finished the drawing they were working on with a dramatic swish and held it up at Louis proudly. It was a clean sketch, in yellows, blacks and blues, of two birds and three bees.

“The birds and the bees!” Harry offered, wilting under Louis’ shocked silence. 

Louis let out a bark of laughter, covering his mouth. At Harry’s frown, he rushed forwards.

“No, Haz, I’m sorry! It’s wonderful, darling, you’ve done such a good job,” he soothed, poking Harry in the cheek until they were smiling again. Harry thrust the drawing at Louis expectantly, and Louis took it. 

“For me?” He asked. Harry nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Louis scrunched his face up fondly and turned to go hang it on the fridge.

On Wednesday, Louis came home to find his entire album collection strewn about his living room, Liam _and_ Zayn asleep on the couch, and Harry operating an old CD player that Louis didn’t know he still had. Louis watched from the doorway as Harry frowned at the CD player in laser-like concentration, the new Kesha album floating quietly through the apartment. 

Louis left them to it, going to wash off the day. By the time he’d had showered and changed, Harry had moved on to the Grease soundtrack. Well, obviously that meant Louis had to dust off his musical theatre skills and give a live performance of the entire discography—to Harry’s utter delight. 

On Thursday, Louis didn’t come home to a messy living room. Instead, he came home to a very _empty_ living room. He checked his phone to find that Liam and Zayn had apparently taken off early to see a matinee showing of Black Panther. Louis couldn’t even be mad at them for that. 

A thorough search of the entire apartment yielded no hiding aliens, but it did yield a sock he thought he’d lost. Sock in hand and slightly panicked, Louis stuck his head out the kitchen window. The pigeon roosting on the wall to the left cooed at him annoyedly. 

“Have you seen Harry?” He asked. It looked at him blankly, because it was a pigeon. “Right.”

Louis spent the evening pacing and chewing his nails, until at about 9pm when Harry came stumbling through the window. They were dressed in a pair of Louis’ sweats, which were too short on them, and one of Louis’ favourite hoodies. Their hair was windswept and their cheeks were pink. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Louis screeched, waving his hands. Harry frowned in confusion at the sock he was still apparently holding. Louis threw it at their big dumb head. They watched it drop at their feet impotently, eyes shining with laughter. 

“Harry, I was genuinely really worried about you,” Louis said, after taking some deep breaths. 

Harry scowled and took two long steps over to the kitchen table, then picked up a piece of paper that was laying on it. They walked slowly over to Louis, and showed them the paper; it was one of Harry’s drawings. In the drawing was a detailed rendering of the roof of Louis’ apartment complex, a night sky full of stars in the background and Harry floating in the foreground. Louis stared at it for three very long seconds then threw his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled them into a violent hug. Harry stood still for a moment, then wrapped their arms around Louis’ back gently. Louis sniffled into Harry’s neck and Harry hummed soothingly. Pressed up against them as he was, Louis could feel his entire body vibrate with it. 

Eventually, Louis pulled back. He wiped his eyes, whispering, “sorry, Haz.” And promptly went to bed. 

By the time Friday evening rolled around, Louis had decided that enough was enough. 

“Enough is enough, lads!” He declared, throwing the apartment door open theatrically.

“What the gentleman said!” Declared Niall, stepping in behind him. 

Three very confused pairs of eyes turned his way. 

“We’re going out tonight, and we’re gonna have a good fucking time, and Harry’s coming too, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Louis crossed his arms defiantly. He saw Niall copy his gesture in the corner of his eye. 

Liam and Zayn shared a glance. “Whereabouts are we going, then?” Asked Liam.

“Oh, I…” Louis scrambled to name a place, having anticipated slightly more pushback on this, “Where do you wanna go?”

“How about The Cherry Tree? They’ve got a drag show tonight, Harry would love that,” Zayn piped up. Louis bounced excitedly.

“Yes! Brilliant, Z, outstanding. Take notes, the rest’a you,” Louis trotted into his room, already pulling out various clothing choices for the night. 

“Well, I might head back to my apartment to get changed, you lads want a lift?” He heard Niall say to Liam and Zayn. Louis popped his head out of his room before they could answer.

“Actually, Liam, do you think you’ve got some clothes that might fit Harry? I’ve got fuck all,” he said. 

Liam considered this, then a slow grin appeared across his face. He whispered something to Zayn, and then they were both grinning like idiots. Louis narrowed his eyes at them suspiciously. 

“Yeah,” said Liam, “I think I’ve got something lying around.”

 

Liam’s idea of ‘something lying around’ was, apparently, taking Harry to a thrift shop and letting them run wild. Louis stared, open mouthed, as Harry entered the apartment a couple hours later wearing painted-on black skinny jeans, beat-up ankle boots, and the most ridiculously frilly pink shirt Louis had ever seen outside of period dramas on the BBC. Harry stood there proudly, arms open, awaiting Louis’ verdict. Liam and Zayn were standing off to the side, smirking knowingly. 

“Well I think you look smashing, Harry,” said Niall, breaking the silence. Harry beamed at him. 

“Yeah—uh… Smashing,” stuttered Louis. Liam and Zayn high-fived discreetly. 

Harry walked towards a still stunned Louis and took his hand, pulling him into the lounge room. They picked up a drawing from the table and handed it to Louis.

“Can I have this, please?” They asked. It was a drawing of a French braid. 

Louis grinned slowly, then replied softly, “Sure, Haz. Sit down, I’ll do it for you.” Harry excitedly took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, tucking their ridiculously long legs under the coffee table. Louis sat behind them, and started parting their hair. It smelt like apples, and was silky to the touch. Louis tried to be gentle as he started braiding, being very used to doing this for his many younger sisters over the years. Harry stayed obediently still, and after a little while even started humming contentedly. 

“This is gonna look really sick, Harry,” Louis said, mostly to fill the silence. Harry blindly reached a hand behind themselves and poked Louis in the thigh. Louis chose to interpret that as an agreement. 

“Niall, can you find a rubber band or something,” Louis called as he put the finishing touches on Harry’s braid. Louis heard rustling from the kitchen, and turned his head towards the doorway. He was hit in the face with a packet of rubber bands. 

“Niall! For fucks sake, I only needed one!” Louis sputtered, pulling a band from the bag. “And would you stop throwing shit at me, please?”

Niall just cackled, and came over to inspect Harry’s now-complete hairstyle. The braid started on the right of Harry’s temple then curved down to the left, the end laying neatly against Harry’s collarbone. Some flyaway strands of hair framed their face.

“Very nice!” Niall complimented, holding a hand up for a high five. Harry eagerly returned the five, grinning bashfully. “We about ready to head out then, lovers?”

Louis pulled himself and Harry to their feet, replying, “Fuck yeah we are, Nialler! Party time.” 

It wasn’t until they’d gotten in line to get into The Cherry Tree that Louis realised the fatal flaw in his plan. Louis pulled Zayn aside, whispering, “Harry doesn’t have ID, Zayn. We’re fucked.”

Zayn cursed, glancing discreetly at the bouncer. “Leave this to me,” he said. 

Louis watched him saunter up to him and start whispering in his ear. The man was built like a tank and had an angry scowl on his face, but Zayn seemed daunted by neither of those things. He indicated his group of friends, and winked at the bouncer. To Louis’ utter astonishment, the man chuckled fondly and waved the group through. Liam nodded politely at the bouncer as he passed, but shot a grumpy scowl his way once the man turned back to the queue. 

Inside, the club was pumping. It was packed with people, some crowding around the bar but most were occupying the dance floor. Harry took the whole scene in with their usual wide-eyed curiosity. 

“Me and Harry will get us drinks, why don’t you lads find us a good spot to watch the show?” Louis yelled over the thumping beats of Nicki Minaj. Niall flashed Louis a thumbs up in response, and the three faded into the crowd. 

“C’mon, love, stick with me,” whispered Louis into Harry’s ear, grabbing their hand. Harry followed willingly as Louis pulled them towards the bar. He wrestled his way towards the front and waved for the bartender’s attention. 

“What’ll it be, folks?” Said the bartender, a very beefy looking woman with an undercut. Louis opened his mouth to reply, but Harry got there first.    


“A whiskey soda, please.” 

Louis raised his eyebrows at them. “And I’ll have 4 shots of tequila, a pint of Guinness, two screwdrivers and two vodka cranberries,” Louis rattled off. The bartender nodded and set about making the drinks. Louis turned to Harry, standing on his tiptoes to whisper in their ear, “Where did you learn that, sunshine?”

Harry pouted their lips in an attempt not to smile, then winked at Louis. Louis let out a bark of laughter and poked them in the stomach. When their drinks were ready, Louis paid for them while Harry tried to balance the tray in their hands. Louis considered taking the tray off them to avoid the inevitable accident that was waiting to happen, but Harry looked quite determined. Louis patted their shoulder encouragingly, then moved in front of them to shove people out of their way.

Eventually, they reached the small table that the boys had claimed, and Harry set the tray of drinks down with a rattle. They were all still mostly full, which was a definite accomplishment.

“Shots!” Cheered Niall, already reaching for one of them. Louis grinned and handed them out. Harry pouted as they realised Louis hadn’t gotten one for them, and sulked into their whiskey soda. Then, they spat out their whiskey soda. 

Everyone at the table cracked up at the look of utter disgust on Harry’s face.

“I’ll drink to that!” Shouted Zayn, and they all knocked back their shots, chasing it with whatever other drink Louis had got for them—screwdrivers for Liam and Zayn, and a pint for Niall. Louis ignored Niall’s comment that just because he was Irish didn’t mean he only drank beer, instead grabbing the remaining two vodka cranberries and handing one to Harry. 

“Drink this instead, Haz,” he shouted. Harry sniffed the drink curiously, then took a brave swig. They winced slightly at the bitterness, and stared back at Louis drily. 

“Yum,” they said, with zero inflection. 

Louis turned to the other boys in outrage. “Lads! Which one of you fucks taught Harry sarcasm! They used to be such a sweet soul and now they’re sassing me in front of all my friends.” Louis threw his arms up dramatically. Niall shook his head at Harry disappointedly, keen as always to play along with Louis’ dramatics. 

Liam, too, bent his head solemnly. 

“Tis a sad day for us all,” drawled Zayn mockingly. Harry reached over the table to high five him. Louis snorted, breaking character. 

The five of them continued to banter rowdily amongst themselves as they finished their drinks. Louis didn’t feel the slightest bit drunk yet, but Harry’s eyes had glazed over a little towards the end of their drink, made worse by Zayn and Liam handing off the rest of their drinks to them. Louis was about to suggest getting Harry some water when the stage lights clicked on all of a sudden. The music cut out, and a hush fell across the club. 

Then, a drag queen stepped into the light. 

“Are you feeling GAY TONIGHT!” She screamed into the mic. She was dressed, Louis recognised, in the style of the iconic Divine—but with approximately a thousand times more glitter. The entire club broke into cheers and applause as the opening riff to _Walk Like A Man_ started playing. “My name is Tess Tosterone, and I’ll be having the pleasure of performing for all you lovelies tonight.” Another cheer erupted. “Now, of course, a queen doesn’t rule alone!” Wolf whistles. “So, I’d like to introduce my lovely associate, the exquisite Estro John!”

A drag king materialised from stage left, stomping on stage in old-west style cowboy outfit complete with boots and rainbow spurs. The audience went _wild._ Louis turned in delight to his friends, and met Harry’s awestruck gaze. 

“Oh, how she tried to cut him down to size,” bellowed Tess Tosterone, “telling dirty lies to his friends.” 

Estro John took over, strutting up and down the stage confidently, “But his own father said give her up, don't bother, the world isn’t coming to and end, he said…”

Together, they belted over the cacophony of the crowd, “Walk like a man! Talk like a man, my son!”

Louis dragged Niall, Liam, Zayn and Harry onto the dance floor. The rest of the performance passed in a wonderful blur of dancing and singing along, and Louis was hot and sweaty by the time the encore was over. He gestured as such to Niall and carved a path towards the bar. As he chugged down a water, he saw someone approaching from the corner of his eye. 

“Saw your moves out there, mate. I’m impressed,” drawled the man as he stepped up beside Louis and grabbed his own water. Louis looked him over. He was attractive, that was for sure; confident and tall, mid-thirties.

“Thanks, mate.” Louis shot back. “Wish I could say the same for you.” He raised his eyebrows flirtily over his cup of water. 

The man chuckled, moving closer. “Well, I’m more of a watcher, not a—“  
  
He was cut off by the sudden arrival of Harry, who stepped up behind Louis and slung an arm around his waist. Louis smiled reflexively and leaned back into the arm.  
  
“Hiya, babe,” he said fondly, pulling lightly on the end of Harry’s plait. Harry just scowled grumpily at him, then at the man he was talking to.

The man raised his eyebrows at the gesture.

“You’re with someone! I didn’t realise,” he said apologetically, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ll just… be leaving now.”

Louis waved him off absently, eyes intent on the groove between Harry’s eyebrows. 

“What’s wrong, little one? Are you not having fun? Do you feel sick?” Louis asked concernedly, ignoring Harry’s petulant mutter of ‘I’m not little’ and fetching them a glass of water. 

Louis frowned at Harry’s silence. “Do you wanna go home, pet?” Harry nodded solemnly, then glanced pointedly to the other side of the bar, where the man from before was standing and trying very hard to pretend he hadn’t been staring. Louis missed this completely, having been distracted by standing on his tiptoes and searching around the club for the rest of the lads. 

Finally spotting them, Louis waved frantically to get their attention and gestured towards the exit. Zayn nodded and dragged an unwilling Liam and Niall over to Harry and Louis. 

“Niall, can you drive?” Louis asked, rubbing a soothing hand on Harry’s back. “Harry wants to leave.”  
  
Niall, shockingly, pulled a disposal breathalyser out of one of his skin-tight jean pockets. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough!” He said cheerily, heading towards the exit and blowing into the tester. He seemed completely unfazed by the looks of shock and hysteria he was receiving from the other lads as they followed him into the chilly night air.

Louis shivered and cursed as the winter wind hit him—always the downside to going clubbing when it was cold. Luckily, Niall’s car was a short walk from the club. Harry made a concerned hum to the left of him, and wrapped one of their giant arms around him, pulling Louis into their chest. Louis’ shivering stopped immediately, and he tried his very best not to nuzzle into the silky fabric of Harry’s shirt. 

“Well, whadya know! I’m clean as a whistle!” Niall yelled, his hearing still blown out from the club.

Louis snickered into Harry’s chest, leaning up to whisper cheekily, “I think that one’s broke.” 

“Yes,” agreed Harry. Louis squinted at them suspiciously. It was beginning to be unsettlingly difficult to tell when Harry was pretending to understand something and when they actually _did._ Before Louis could probe them for answers, (and—good god, Louis did not intend that pun) the group reached Niall’s car. 

“Shotgun!” Cried Louis, wrenching himself out of Harry’s grasp and throwing himself at the passenger side door. No one batted an eyelash at his theatrics, and the group piled exhaustedly into the car. 

“Thank fuck,” Louis moaned as the engine turned over and the heating ticked on. The radio started softly playing some indie-electric song Louis didn’t recognise, the tuning set to one of Niall’s more hipster station preferences. Louis settled comfortably into the seat as the lights of the city passed by. 

The song picked up tempo, and Louis met Harry’s eyes in the rear view mirror. 

_A new world hangs outside my window, beautiful and strange,_ sung the radio. Louis smiled a crinkly-eyed smile at Harry, and their face softened. They sniffed exaggeratedly, breaking eye contact to stare out the window up at the sky. 

_It must be falling away, I must be… Sound and colour with me for my mind._


	4. Chapter 4

_Yes, I am ill_

_Yes, I cannot get my balance_

_Yes, I get carried away in a breeze like a feather_

_It doesn’t matter, let it go_

_Give me love_

_Give me vertigo._

\- O Vertigo!, Kate Miller Heidke

  
Louis awoke groggily the next morning, wiping his eyes. As usual, Harry was already up. Louis pulled on an oversized sweater and stumbled over to the bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. 

Inside the bathroom was Harry. They were floating crosslegged in front ofthe mirror, still wearing the clothes from last night—minus the shoes. Some curls were escaping the plaits in their head, and they were making faces at their reflection. First they smiled, then frowned, then scowled, then squinted, then smiled again. They reached a curious hand towards their face and pressed a finger into their dimple. 

Louis leaned against the doorframe. It squeaked against his weight, and Harry startled, whirling around. They lowered themselves onto their feet under Louis’ watchful gaze.  


“You really are an alien, aren’t you?” Louis wondered, scanning Harry’s surprised face. “I think I must forget that sometimes.” Harry frowned, averting their gaze to the floor. 

Louis sighed. “How’d you get to look so human, then, Haz? Where did… _Harry_ come from?” He asked tiredly, not really expecting an answer. 

Harry seemed to contemplate the question. They flicked their gaze up to meet Louis’, then fixed it on the wall of the shower. A deep groove appeared between their brows. 

“I…. Drew him,” Harry said slowly. 

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Him?” He repeated questioningly. 

At last, Harry met his gaze. They—he—gave a firm nod. 

“Alright,” Louis said softly. After a beat, he added, “what do you mean by ‘drew’, darling?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but shook his head. He walked past Louis out of the bathroom, headed towards the kitchen. Louis took note of the care with which he took to not touch Louis as he passed. He frowned, following Harry. In the kitchen, Harry was bent over the table and scribbling away at a couple pieces of paper. He had a pencil in each hand and a concentrated look on his face. Louis hopped up onto the counter and waited patiently, stifling a yawn. 

Eventually, Harry put his pencils down and turned, drawings in hand. Louis reached out to take the first one, and Harry let him. 

It was…. “Your ship?” 

“Rrnnnnnmmm,” Harry hummed frustratedly. “Not a ship. _Me_.”

Louis frowned at the drawing, confused. He whipped his head up as it clicked. “That was you? Like, your body?”

Harry nodded, then handed Louis the other drawing. It was a familiar scene. The _Batman!_ floated off to one side, Zayn, Liam and Niall visible on her deck. The green object that Louis had thought was Harry’s ship was floating on the other side of the page. Seawater filled about half the page, making a cross-section of air and water. In the water was Louis, floating next to… Harry. His hand was pressed against him, and the human shape Louis knew as Harry was floating on the other side. He wasn’t quite fully formed, some parts missing. He looked… incomplete. 

“So….” Louis trailed off, struggling to understand. “You crashed in the water, and we found you, and… you created a human body? But… what happened to your old body? We just left it there, can you still feel it?.”

Harry shook his head, bringing his huge hands together slowly in front of Louis’ face in a shrinking motion. Louis nearly went cross-eyed to follow the action. “Harry is me now.” He said.

“Okay,” blinked Louis. “Well…. Does Harry want some tea?” He asked desperately. He was still reeling from the bomb Harry had just dropped. He really needed something to occupy his hands. 

Harry cracked a small smile and nodded. He took the drawings back from Louis and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead. Louis blushed furiously, hopping down and setting the kettle to boil. He glanced furtively over his shoulder at where Harry had taken a seat at the table, cheek resting on his hand and a fond look on his face. Harry saw he was being watched and hastily picked up the magazine that was lying in front of him, pulling it up to his face and humming interestedly. It was one of the scientific journals Louis subscribed to, and Harry was holding it upside down. Louis laughed, shaking his head. Reading was one of the only human things Harry hadn’t immediately taken to—he operated Louis’ phone and computer (when he wanted to) by memorising the icons for things. Of course, technology wasn’t very useful when you’re illiterate, but Harry still enjoyed asking whoever was around to indulge him in looking up the randomest videos on youtube. Kitten sneeze compilations were his favourite so far. 

Louis reached into his pocket as he waited for the water to boil, pulling out the list Steve had written him. He looked it over again, then looked out the window at the grey sky. 

“I was thinking we could go ice skating today, if you’re up for it.” Louis said, looking over his shoulder at Harry.   
  
Harry made a curious noise, so Louis pulled out his phone, opened youtube, and searched for an ice skating video. Communicating complicated things to Harry was much easier with visual aid, as they’d discovered. He gave the phone to Harry, and began placing ingredients on the counter for a breakfast fry-up. Harry giggled, and Louis glanced over in time to see a group of children take to the ice quickly followed by someone wearing an inflatable t-rex costume.

“Can we go, please?” Harry asked once the video had finished.

“As you wish, Buttercup!” Louis declared dramatically, gesturing with the carton of eggs he was holding. Harry scrunched his face up fondly and took the eggs from him. He put them delicately back on the counter, and turned on the stovetop. “Oi!” Louis laughed, “I’m doing that!” 

Harry just bumped their hips together, sending Louis flailing away from the counter. He held his hands out to balance himself, socked feet slipping on the tiles, and Harry tried to hide his grin behind his hand. 

“You won’t be laughing in an hour when you’re tripping all over yourself on the ice, mark my words,” said Louis menacingly. “Your Bambi legs will be your undoing!”

Louis, in fact, could not have been more right. The minute Harry hit the ice, he was falling all over himself. The first few times he fell down he simply laughed and dusted himself off. Then, he started upping the stakes by accidentally crashing into other patrons. Louis did his best to keep a steady grip on his hand, but Harry’s legs did what they wanted (seemingly independent of the rest of his body, even). Luckily, Harry was very charming—especially in his borrowed winter coat, patterned scarf and jeans—so no one seemed to mind being run into very much. After about an hour, however, it seemed to be dampening Harry’s spirits. Louis tried to be encouraging, but it was obvious to all present that ice skating really wasn’t Harry’s calling. 

After his latest spectacular stacking—in which he’d managed to somehow do a full tumble roll—he muttered a profanity that Louis did _not_ know he knew and set off in the direction of the exit. 

“Oh, no, babe,” Louis laughed, skating up behind him. “Let me help you, alright? Give it one more chance.” Louis manoeuvred so he was blocking Harry’s path. Harry directed his grumpy kitten scowl at him, but let Louis take both of his hands in his own. Linked together like this, it was obvious how much bigger they were than Louis’. 

Everything about Harry made sense in the context of him, but not always in the context of Louis. He couldn’t help but notice the little details about him that were a little… _much._ How insanely green his eyes were, how his skin seemed to shine like a smooth vanilla candle, how his lips seemed attached to his face as an afterthought, the interplay between the soft love handles above his hips and his broad, muscular back. 

Together, he was perfect. But… it hit Louis as he stood in the artificial light of the ice rink and stared at this lovely alien boy that Harry’s body was a thing that he’d _made._ It was something that the alien himself was getting used to at the same time as Louis was. 

A grin overtook Louis’ face at the thought. “You’re body’s only a week old, munchkin, of course you don’t have all the fine details smoothed out yet. Don’t be grumpy.” Louis lifted a gloved finger to Harry’s frown, poking until Harry’s face cleared. “That’s better!” He used the same hand to pull the pink beanie Harry was wearing further over his little ears—it was an item of clothing Louis was sure Lottie had left at his place a good year ago, and he still didn’t know how Harry had managed to find it. 

Harry cracked a smile finally. “Okay.”

“Brilliant!” 

He placed Harry’s hands on his shoulders and used his own to firmly grip Harry’s hips. “I’ll pull you along for a little bit, alright?”

Harry nodded unsurely, but started giggling as soon as Louis started skating backwards with Harry in tow. Louis’ head was turned over his shoulder to make sure there were no more fellow skaters in their way who were about to be trampled, but his hands tightened on Harry’s waist at the sound of his giggle. After gaining a small amount of speed, Louis turned back to Harry and slowly took his hands from his hips. Harry stayed gliding forwards safely even when Louis took his hands from his shoulders. He stared down in disbelief at his feet, then beamed proudly at Louis. This was the longest he’d gone without falling.

“See, love? I’ve got you, you’re doing it— Oof!” 

In his moment of distraction, Louis’ foot caught on an uneven part of the ice and he tumbled backwards. His grip on Harry’s hands pulled him down with him, and he landed heavily on Louis’ chest.

“Louis?” Harry asked urgently, pushing himself up and scanning Louis’ face. 

Louis stared up at him dazedly for a beat, then burst into hysterical laughter. Harry joined him, and they lay in the corner of the rink wheezing until a staff member skated over to politely inform them that the rink was closing.    
They stumbled off the rink hand in hand, still giggling. 

They sat down where they’d left their shoes. Louis pulled off his skates and was back in his converse by the time Harry was done with undoing his laces. He hummed disapprovingly when Louis tried to help him, so Louis relaxed back into his seat to wait, pulling out his phone. He opened Whatsapp and sent a message off. 

 

To: Nialler, Zayniepoo, Lima Bean

_Harry’s going by he/him pronouns now, is it in bad taste to want to make him a cake to celebrate?_

 

From: Zayniepoo

_Celebrate what? Entering manhood?? That’s not cause for celebration bebz_

 

From: Nialler

_It’s only in bad taste if YOU make the cake. I’ve had your baked goods before Tommo… Bring him over to mine and we can make one together! The mad lad loves to cook, right?_

 

From: Loubear

_OI! You said you liked my scones…._

 

Seen by: Zayniepoo, Nialler.

 

From: Loubear

_Alright fuckers we’ll be over in 30._

 

Harry spent the bus ride to Niall’s apartment staring out the window as the streets flew by. Louis wanted to try and engage him in conversation, but he looked oddly pensive. 

_At least he’s gotten over his hatred of motor vehicles_ , thought Louis. 

Harry perked up when they got to Niall’s apartment, knocking enthusiastically. As Niall opened the door for them, they were hit with a wave of vanilla scent. Harry looked around wide-eyed at the interior—as neatly organised and impeccably decorated as Louis remembered it being. 

“Alright, darling?” Louis greeted, hugging Niall. “Smells divine in here.” 

Niall chuckled fondly. They both turned to watch Harry inspect the triple wick candle sitting on the dining table. He poked it curiously, then bent down to smell it up close. 

“Oh, mate!” Niall said. Harry looked up guiltily. “You’re alright, sunshine. But maybe don’t stick your face near the flame next time, yeah?” Harry broke into a dimpled grin. 

“Now!” Louis clapped his hands. “I believe I heard something about baking a cake?” Harry nodded eagerly, moving into Niall’s kitchen.

Niall pointed a finger at him jokingly. “Stay out of my kitchen, you flop.” 

Louis put his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Zayn’s out on the balcony already, go bug him instead.”

Louis made his way over to the balcony as Niall and Harry started banging about in the kitchen. Baking was a very serious, very dangerous activity, after all. 

Louis stepped out into the cold, shivering and huddling into his coat. Zayn looked over in greeting from where he was splayed artfully over the banister, smoking a cigarette. He offered one to Louis. 

“You always gotta look like you stepped out of a magazine shoot?” Louis muttered, accepting the cigarette from him. 

Zayn snorted unattractively, breaking the illusion somewhat. He held a lighter up for Louis, clicking it on. 

“Such a gentleman!” Louis swooned, taking a puff. 

“Sod off,” said Zayn, turning back to the view. Niall’s apartment was only on the fourth floor, so it wasn’t hugely impressive. Still, you could see the ocean a little ways off in the distance. Not too shabby. 

“How’s your alien doing?” Zayn asked. 

Louis considered this. “He’s not really mine, Zayn.” That came out softer than Louis intended. 

Zayn glanced over questioningly. “Sounds like you want him to be.”  
  
Louis took another drag, pointedly ignoring that.

“Come on, Louis.”

Louis sighed. “He’s gotta go home at some point, Zayn. He can’t stay here.” His firm words were interrupted by the balcony door opening. Louis whirled round to see Harry in the doorway. 

His face was an impassive mask, but his voice shook a little when he said, “Liam’s here. He’s got news.” 

Zayn and Louis followed him back into the apartment contritely, seeing Liam sitting at the dining room table. Niall came in from the kitchen, plonking a mug of tea in front of Liam and taking a seat to his right. The rest of the boys joined them at the table. 

“Liam,” Louis said, breaking the silence. He was trying not to glance over at Harry, trying to be… patient. It was hard when Liam was just staring blankly at his tea. 

Liam shook himself and looked up at all of them, one by one. His gaze lingered on Harry, but settled on Louis. “I took the _Batman!_ out to where we found Harry this morning.” The room got thicker. “There’s a perimeter set up around his ship made of more coastguards than we even _have_ around here.” 

Harry frowned at the mention of his ‘ship’, looking over at Louis.

“Well, shit.” Said Niall. He reached over and stole Liam’s mug, taking a big gulp. 

“What does this mean?” Asked Harry. “Why is this bad?”

Louis chose to focus on the first question as he leaned forwards. “This means that we have to get our story straight, okay? Anyone asks, we went out last Sunday to pick up Diana because she wasn’t giving any interesting readings. Nothing unusual occurred, and nothing unusual was witnessed.” He looked around the table. Everyone nodded, relaxing a little at Louis’ commanding tone. 

Finally, Louis looked over at Harry. “This is bad because if the authorities find out you’re an alien, they’ll take you away from us.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “From me.” 

Harry met his gaze evenly, then stood up. His chair made an awful sound as it dragged across the floor. Everyone watched as Harry went over to the balcony, then they watched as he took off into the air. 

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Niall. 

Liam stole his tea back. 

Zayn raised his eyebrows at Louis judgementally. 

Louis wet his lips, rubbing a hand over his face. He cleared his throat a couple times. 

“Niall,” he asked steadily, “does this building have roof access?”

 

@.@

 

Louis made his way up to the roof armed with two pieces of what Niall had referred to as ‘apology cake’.

It didn’t matter that Louis had pointed out that Niall and Harry hadn’t baked the apology into the cake during the baking process and therefore it was not _genuine_ apology cake. Niall just shook his head, shoved two spoons in the bowls and pushed him out the door. 

When Louis reached the door to the roof, it took some clever (read: uncoordinated) manoeuvring to get the door open with his hands full. 

He burst through the door and stumbled onto the roof. _There goes my surprise entrance_ , he thought. 

But… Harry hadn’t even turned. He was floating cross-legged (as he sometimes did when he didn’t think anyone was watching) and facing the sunset.

Louis made his way over quietly, stopping to his left. 

“How come you don’t fly around, Harry?” He asked gently. “I only ever see you float places.”

Harry set himself down gently. His hair was undone from his braid and was whipping every which way in the breeze. 

He turned to Louis and spoke lowly. Louis could see now that his eyes were a red around the edges. “I can’t fly. I can just… make myself light. It’s hard to control. If I floated into the sky I might not come down again.”  
  
He pushed a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath.

“Also,” he said, taking a step closer to Louis. “I asked some birds about it, and they said humans don’t fly. So I didn’t want to—“ He cut himself off, sniffing and looking off into the sunset. 

Louis put down the bowls of cake, feeling ridiculous just standing there holding them. “You didn’t want to what, Harry?”

Harry squared his shoulders and looked Louis dead in the eye. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

Louis’ heart melted. “Oh, baby, no…” He said, tucking some of Harry’s wild hair behind his ear. “You could never scare me, Harry. I just want you to be yourself.” 

Harry sniffled. “Be myself while leaving, you mean?” He didn’t even sound angry, just… upset. That was much worse, Louis thought. 

“Harry, about what I said,” Louis began. “I…“

“It’s ok,” Harry said, backing away from Louis. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” pleaded Louis, reaching his arms out to him. “I didn’t mean that I _wanted_ you to go back home—”

“I don’t have a home to go back to, Louis!” Harry burst. “I just—I’m here now, and I can’t leave, and if you don’t want me, then…” he trailed off dejectedly.

Louis curled in on himself. “I do want you,” he whispered to his shoes. 

A few moments passed, then Harry’s booted feet came into view as he stepped up to Louis.    


“What?” 

Louis cleared his throat, then looked up to Harry’s heartbreakingly hopeful face. When he spoke, his voice was strong and clear. “I said: I do want you. I don’t want you to leave. I just didn’t think I had the right to ask you to stay.”

Harry’s eyes were shining. “You don’t have to ask, Louis.”

Louis shook his head. “I do, though, because if you’re stuck here then I want you to say with me because you _want_ to, not because you have to.”

Harry reached his hands up to frame Louis’ face. His skin was surprisingly warm against the chilly dusk air. 

“Then ask,” he murmured.   
  
Louis stood on his tiptoes, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. His eyes flitted between Harry’s, trying not to get lost in their deep green.

“Will you stay with me?” He asked softly. 

A slow grin broke out on Harry’s face, dimpled and grand. “Yes.”   
  
It was a simple word, but Louis had never been so filled with joy. He grinned widely, and before he could process it he was already leaning forwards. He froze a second before his lips could meet Harry’s.

He took a quick few steps backwards, flustered and wide-eyed. Harry blinked slowly. Louis’ eyes searched frantically for a distraction.

“Here! Apology cake!” He cried, shoving both bowls into Harry’s hands.

Harry blinked a few more times then smiled confusedly. “Is that a custom?”

“You know…” Louis said, trying to calm his heartbeat. “I’m not sure.” 

Harry hummed, adjusting the bowls so they were both held in one of his huge hands. He used the other hand to take a bite of the cake—a lovely looking red velvet—and Louis watched with mild horror, remembering how he’d struggled to hold just one bowl in each hand. 

They stayed on the roof in companionable silence as the sun set and Harry happily ate both pieces of cake. Neither of them mentioned what had almost happened. When they came back down to Niall’s apartment, it was to find that Zayn and Liam had—as Niall put it—buggered off with the rest of the cake. Niall was sat on his couch, his favourite acoustic guitar in his lap. Harry watched him play interestedly. 

“You’re like Phoebe from Friends,” he said reverently. Louis choked on his spit, but Niall looked as if he’d been complimented. 

“D’ya wanna learn to be Phoebe too, Haz? I’ve got a couple spare guitars to choose from.” 

Harry nodded, and Niall left the room for a moment, returning eagerly with two more guitars. 

“You can convince Louis to let me teach him too, right?” Niall asked, handing Harry one of them. “I’ve been begging him to let me teach him for ages.”    


Harry was distracted for a second by running his hands over the guitar’s smooth wood. Louis could tell when he’d processed Niall’s words because his head snapped up accusingly towards him.

Louis put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, calm down, I know when I’m outnumbered,” he chuckled, taking a seat next to Harry and accepting the guitar from Niall. “As I’ve said before, Niall, it’s not because I don’t believe in your excellent capabilities as a teacher. It’s honestly just that I’m—” at this is leaned into Harry and loudly whispered, “ _really very shit._ ”

Niall clucked disapprovingly. “You’re not shit Lou, you just don’t know how to play yet!”

Harry nodded, turning to Louis and laying a comforting hand and his shoulder. “Like me,” he said.

Louis looked between them, uncomfortable with the sincerity of the situation. “Well, then, are we gonna learn or what?” 

“Yes!” Niall clapped his hands together. “Watch what I do and copy where my fingers are.”   
  
Niall took them through some basic chords, told them which string was which (information that Louis very promptly forgot) and then they tried to play some random Coldplay song that Harry hadn’t heard.

Louis was surprised by how fast he was picking it up, even though it still took both him and Harry a painfully long time to rearrange their fingers on the fretboard for each chord change. 

“Now, boys, I can sense you’re getting frustrated,” said Niall placatingly after a rather disastrous attempt at Oasis’s _Wonderwall,_ which Louis thought would be funny but ended up just being hard and boring.

“Absolutely not,” deadpanned Harry. 

“Fuck you and everything you stand for, Horan,” added Louis. 

“Well then!” Said Niall cheerily. “That concludes our lesson for today!” He leaned in conspiratorially, pretending to look over his shoulder before whispering, “the key to teaching is waiting to finish your lesson until your students want to murder you.” 

Louis’ blew out a laugh, frustration dissipating. “You know…” He considered. “Some of my students do complain that I go on for too long, but I only ever see homicidal rage in one or two eyes at a time. I must just not be as committed to education as you are.” 

Niall cackled, standing up and putting his guitar away. He took the other two from Harry and Louis, and put one back on it’s stand. 

“Since I’m such a brilliant educator, I’m gonna assign some homework for you lads.” He bent down and pulled a fabric guitar case from under the couch, zipping it up around the guitar. He held it out to Harry.

Harry beamed, and wrapped his long arms around Niall, squeezing the guitar between them.   
  
“I’ll look after it,” he promised solemnly. Niall patted his back softly.

“I know, sunshine.” 

“You steal my dignity, then you steal my alien?” Louis cried, making his way towards the front door. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, Niall James Horan!” 

Niall rolled his eyes at him. “Piss off, and take this one.” He poked Harry in the stomach, prompting him to release his hold. 

Harry pouted. “Heyyyy,” he drawled, grabbing the guitar and holding it to his chest protectively. 

“You’re not cute,” Niall told him, despite being visibly charmed. 

“He is cute! You smell!” Louis yelled, already in the doorway.

“Yeah!” Harry agreed, walking over to Louis. “You smell like vanilla!” 

“No—darling,” Louis laughed, pulling him out the door, sending one last cry at Niall over his shoulder: “He means that scathingly!” 

“Did I say something wrong?” Harry asked as they made their way to the bus stop. Louis put his arm over his shoulder, pulling Harry down to a slight hunch to make the position work. 

“Not at all, Harry. You were perfect.” 


	5. Chapter 5

_A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes_

_I screamed aloud as it tore through them_

_And now it’s left me blind._

\- Cosmic Love, Florence + The Machine

 

It had officially been a week since Harry’s arrival on Earth. Louis awoke before his alarm—a true rarity—and stretched happily. When he glanced over at Harry’s nest, he was surprised to find that that the alien was still sleeping in it. 

Louis rested his hand on his cheek, staring down at him. This was the first time Louis had managed to be up before him. Harry was decidedly a creature of the morning, and Louis decidedly was not. 

Still, here he was: half-buried under a comforter with his face mashed against a pillow, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths. Louis’ gaze caught on something as he watched Harry breathe. It was something that he felt utterly idiotic for not noticing sooner.

Harry had four nipples. 

The two extras were much smaller, so it made sense that Louis had missed them. Especially if you considered that Louis had been very purposeful _not_ trying to stare at Harry’s tits whenever they’d been out and about. 

Louis looked at Harry’s sleeping face, then slowly reached a finger out to poke one of the little nubs. Harry sniffled cutely.

“Get it together, Tommo,” Louis muttered, burying his face in his pillow. After giving himself a stern mental talking to, he sat and and shuffled his way into the kitchen to get some tea started.

As the water boiled he did a little washing up, watered Tchaikovsky, nodded politely to the pigeon on the sill (he still wasn’t quite sure how much he bought that Harry was able to talk to animals but it didn’t hurt to be nice), then checked his email. 

He absently poured out two mugs of tea when the water was done, spotting a piece of paper on the counter. It was Steve’s list. He flipped it over, going through it again as he blew on his tea. 

Harry had had what Louis would call a somewhat stressful week already, so that eliminated most of the options. The most promising option was ‘kick it in a field’. Louis snorted. 

_Does he mean footie or a picnic?_ He wondered as he sipped his tea. _Americans._

At least Steve was thoughtful enough to include directions to a nature preserve a couple hours away. Not for the first time, Louis wondered at how seriously he’d taken Louis’ very odd request for alien-friendly activities. 

“Hey, Tchaikovsky? Do you think Steve’s an alien too?” Louis looked over to his succulent. It seemed to have recovered rather well from Harry taking a bite out of it a week ago. In fact, Louis had discovered a few colourful stones decorating it’s pot and some new richer soil packed around its roots. Louis smiled, imagining Harry taking special care with the tiny plant after having damaged it. 

Speaking of Harry, a glance at the clock told Louis that he definitely should’ve been up by now. Louis grabbed both mugs of tea and headed back to the bedroom. 

Harry was still curled up in his nest, legs splayed at an awkward angle. He was frowning in his sleep.

Louis carefully placed the teas on the nightstand and knelt beside him. 

“Harry,” he said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was hot to the touch. “Shit,” Louis muttered, placing his palm on Harry’s forehead. 

Louis relaxed slightly. He was definitely too hot, but it wasn’t quite a fever. 

Harry sniffled again, turning his head into Louis’ palm. 

“Lou…” he murmured. As far as Louis could tell he was still asleep. 

“I’m here, Harry. Wake up, love.” 

Harry blinked slowly. He stretched, dislodging Louis’ hand. His back made a few cracking noises that Louis winced at. 

“Good morning.” Louis handed Harry his tea, and the alien struggled to sit up. Louis tsked concernedly.

“Are you feeling alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded blearily, taking a gulp of tea. Louis frowned. 

“Nope. I don’t believe you.” He stood up and grabbed Harry’s hands, pulling. “Up you get, come on!”

“Rrrrrrrrrrrmmmn,” replied Harry. He usually only saved noises like that for when he was really out of it, or really pissed off. 

“None of that, Starbaby, drink your tea and get in bed. I’ll make you some soup.” 

Harry tried to walk around Louis towards the door, still scowling, but Louis refused to budge. Harry stared down at Louis’ impatient expression, then at Louis’ bed.

“I feel fine,” he said as he crawled into it, snuggling against the mattress and sighing blissfully at the feeling of cool sheets. 

“Uhuh. Sure.” Louis tried not to get distracted by the sight of a mostly naked Harry wriggling about in his bed, and focused on tucking him in. “I’ll be back with soup.”

When Louis got to the kitchen, the first thing he did was get out his biggest pot. The next thing he did was stare down said pot, giving it his very best stink eye. 

“Alright, fucker,” he said. “I need this soup to be actually edible, and I swear to god I’ll throw you out if its not.”

Apparently in the absence of curly-haired alien companions, Louis resorted to talking to inanimate objects. This was not, as Diana and Olivia could attest, a new development.

Intimidation complete, Louis set to work on the soup. His fridge was still stocked with some vegetables from Zayn and Liam’s shopping run a week ago, so he chucked those in.

Once everything was set to boil for a while, he popped his head in to check on Harry.

Harry was already back to snoring peacefully. Good. 

Some time later, the soup was finally done. Louis managed to get a good chunk of grading done whilst waiting for all the vegetables to cook through, and he hoped Harry had managed some shut eye. 

Louis brought a bowl of his piping hot creation over to the bedroom door. Louis stared it down like he’d done the pot. 

“We meet again, Door While My Hands Are Full With A Bowl,” he snarled. The door swung away from him, and for all of a second Louis felt a rush of victory at having bested his foe. Then he blinked and realised Harry was standing in front of him, hand still on the door handle and a truly impressive scowl on his face.

“Louis.” He bit out. “Why do I feel like shit.” 

Louis cooed sympathetically, offering Harry the bowl of soup. Harry scowled at it, then reluctantly accepted it. 

Louis ushered Harry backwards into the bedroom, herding him into the bed and tucking the sheets back around him.

“You feel like shit because you’re sick, little one. Eat your soup,” he fussed. 

Harry huffed. Louis waited with his eyebrows raised, returning Harry’s furrowed brows with an unimpressed look of his own. Harry dropped his gaze and the fight went out of him. He lifted a sad spoonful of soup towards his mouth. Then he moaned as it his his tongue, taking another eager gulp. Some of his hair got caught in the soup in his enthusiasm. 

Louis laughed, tucking some of Harry’s curls behind his ears. He looked around the room for a spare hair tie. He spotted one on Harry’s own wrist. He pried it off gently and gathered Harry’s hair up into a bun as Harry happily slurped his soup and made a few indelicate moaning noises. 

“Do you two want some privacy?” Louis sassed, gesturing between Harry and the soup. 

Harry squinted at him in mock offence, then on his next spoonful slurped obnoxiously. 

Louis snickered, leaving the room momentarily to have a rummage through his medicine cabinet for something for Harry’s cold. By the time he reentered his room Harry was gently placing his empty bowl on the nightstand. 

“Thank you for the soup, Louis,” rumbled Harry, making to stand up. 

Louis put his hands on his shoulders and shoved him back into the bed.

“Nope! You’re going to swallow these with minimal to no bitching, then you’re taking another nap. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”  


Louis held out the pills expectantly. Harry opened his mouth a couple times, considering his next words. 

“How much bitching…is minimal bitching?” He asked eventually. His pokerface was almost perfect, but Louis could see a sparkle to his eyes and a subtle lift at his lips.

“Oh Harold! Everyone knows that an innocent angel such as yourself would never dream of being difficult!” Louis smiled sweetly and batted his eyelashes.

Harry took the pills.

 

@.@

 

Louis was in the middle of updating his data spreadsheet with last week’s readings when his phone rang. Louis glanced concernedly at his bedroom door, answering the call. 

“Hey Boobear! Watcha up to?”

Louis grinned. “Lottie! Lovely to hear from you, darling. I’m just doing boring science stuff as usual.”

Lottie made a disgusted noise. “You need to get out more, Louis. Meet people! Make friends!”

Louis snorted, glancing again at his bedroom door. “I think I’m good on friends for the time being, thanks.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“Louis. If you don’t tell me what you mean by that then I’m calling mum right now and telling her you’ve eloped with a student. Try me.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’ve just met someone, that’s all! No need to be so dramatic about it.”

“Mmhmm. Because everyone knows I’m the dramatic one in the family.”

“Oi!”

Lottie laughed. “But seriously, you met someone? Is this someone…. Romantic?”   
  
Even though Louis couldn’t see her, he could tell she was waggling her eyebrows. 

“Absolutely not. Piss off.”

He hung up.

After a few brief minutes of peace, his phone rang again. This time Louis heard a groan from the other side of the bedroom door. 

He cursed and fumbled to answer it.   
  
“What!” He hissed. 

“Louis William Tomlinson! I’ve just had a very interesting chat with your sister.” 

His mum’s voice was almost manically cheery. 

“Shit—mum, don’t listen to anything she says, I did _not_ elope with a student.”  


Jay’s confused silence was all Louis needed to know about what exactly Lottie had told her. He banged his head on the desk. 

“Well, she didn’t tell me that but now I’m starting to think you might have.”  


Louis rubbed a hand over his face.

“I absolutely didn’t, mum.”

Jay chuckled fondly. 

“I know, honey. But why didn’t you tell me you’d made a _friend?”_

Said ‘friend’ pulled open the bedroom door grumpily. He turned his pissed off frog face towards Louis and pouted.

“There’s nothing to tell mum!” Louis whispered into the phone, trying to convey an apology to Harry via facial expressions and vague handwaving.

“Rrrrrrrmmmmn,” said Harry, making his way over to Louis. He was only wearing a very small pair of pants. Louis completely missed whatever his mum said in response.

Louis cleared his throat forcefully. “What was that, mum?”

“I just asked if you were lying to your poor mother then you rudely ignored me. Oh! Are they there right now?” She sounded very excited at the prospect. 

Harry reached the head of the table where Louis was seated. He sniffled pathetically, shivering. Louis tucked his phone into his shoulder and held his hands open.

“Yes, he’s here right now. But he’s sick so no, I’m not putting him on the phone. Don’t bother asking, you minx.”

Harry crawled his way into Louis lap, wriggling and squirming until his larger frame could fit in the chair. He tucked himself into a sad little ball and stuck his cold nose right in Louis’ neck. 

Louis winced, trying to ignore how much pain his legs were in. 

“Aw! The poor love! What are his symptoms?” His mum cooed. 

Harry rumbled something unintelligible into Louis’ neck. 

“It’s just a cold, mum. I made him some soup and made him have a nap.” Louis rubbed a hand down Harry’s back comfortingly. “And he was only a little bit of a giant toad about it.”

Harry growled. 

Jay laughed into his ear. “Sounds like a handful! Tell me all about him.” 

Louis smirked cheekily. “Well I met him a week ago at the marina. His name’s Harry and he likes eating plants and watching Friends reruns. You’re gonna love him, mum, he’s _out of this world.”_

Harry made an odd choking noise, like he’d swallowed a laugh.

“Only a week ago? Well, you always did get attached quick. Do you remember that time you met a boy on a school trip and cried when you had to leave? That was only an hour!”

“Yes great story mum sorry gotta go!” Louis said loudly, hastily ending to call and cutting off his mother’s cackling. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked. It actually sounded more like ‘hooowztht’, but Louis was pretty adept at understanding sick people nonsense. 

Louis shifted a little in his seat, trying to get comfortable under Harry’s weight. He got an angry mumble for his trouble. 

“My mum, you heavy alien shit. Do you feel any better after your nap?” 

Harry ignored both the insult and the question.

“What’s it like, having a mum?” He blinked up at Louis. Even his fucking blinks were pretty. Asshole.  


Louis sighed. He pulled Harry’s legs back up when they started to slip, thinking over his answer.

“For some people, it’s the best thing in the world. I got lucky with my mum. She’s my best friend, and she’s always been there for me. Even when I’m rambling about my research and she doesn’t understand half the words I’m saying. Mums are supposed to raise you and look after you, teach you about the world and how to be good in it. But they’re just people like everyone else, really. Everyone’s got flaws. Except me, obviously.” He sniffed haughtily. Harry snorted unattractively. 

“Do you not have someone who made you? Looked after you?”

Harry was silent for a while. Louis tried to ignore that his legs were going to sleep.

“Not really. It’s not the same, for my kind.” He sounded further away than Louis had ever heard him. 

Louis was considering whether to push for answers when there was a heavy knock on his door. 

Louis’ head snapped to it. It was a Sunday afternoon, and any of his friends would have texted they were coming first. 

“Get off me, please,” Louis said gently, trying to pry Harry’s hand from his shirt.

Harry grumbled menacingly, but let Louis climb out from underneath him. He curled into the warmth of where Louis had been sitting as Louis tiptoed his way towards the door. 

Looking through the peephole, Louis could see two smartly dressed women on the other side. They were wearing black suits and aviators. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered. 

The taller woman knocked again, firmer this time. 

Louis glanced over at Harry, who was watching him curiously. 

“Go into the bedroom and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe, okay?” He hissed. 

Harry frowned, nodding. He stood up slowly, then stepped towards Louis. He pressed on open palm to Louis’ chest, right over his beating heart. His eyes flitted between Louis’.

“Go, Harry.” 

He went. 

Louis took a steading breath, then pulled open the door. 

“Yes?” He snapped.

The taller one spoke. “I’m Agent Nelson, this is Agent Thirlwall.” They each flashed a badge. “We’re with MI5. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

Agent Thirlwall piped up. “It will only take a few minutes of your time, Mr. Tomlinson.”

Louis nodded evenly, stepping aside. 

“Would you like some tea, agents?” He asked as they walked past him and took careful stock of his apartment. He tamped down the urge to apologise for the mess. 

“Yes, please,” said Agent Nelson. “Black, one sugar.”

“Same for me,” said Agent Thirlwall. 

“If you’ll follow me into the kitchen?” Offered Louis. He tried not to glance over at the coffee table, where Harry’s drawings were stacked in plain sight. 

Both agents nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table as he put the kettle on. 

He grabbed down three mugs from the cupboard. “So, what can I help you with? Surely MI5 isn’t interested in my research.”

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling. Both agents just stared blankly at him. Louis cleared his throat. 

“You’re right that this isn’t about your research, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Louis, please.” He poured boiling water into each mug, grateful that his hand wasn’t shaking. 

“We actually have some questions about your whereabouts last Sunday.” 

Louis was suddenly very grateful that his back was turned. 

He schooled his features as he stirred in sugar. “Last Sunday? Well, myself, my colleague and our research assistant were out at sea for most of that day.” He turned, placing a mug in front of each woman. He blew calmly across his own tea, waiting for any reaction from them. 

“Why were you at sea?” Agent Nelson asked, ignoring her tea. 

“Well, Niall—my colleague—and I had decided that the readings we were getting from one of our transmitters were going to be utterly useless to our research. Here, let me—“ 

He shuffled around through the papers that were on the kitchen table, pulling out a print out of Diana’s data for the week leading up to Sunday last. Niall and himself had very thoroughly deleted any evidence of her malfunction already, and at some point in the week after he’d discovered she was still operation Niall and Liam had taken the _Batman!_ out to drop her off somewhere with more activity. 

He handed the print out to Agent Nelson, taking a step back.

“As you can see, we weren’t getting anything interesting from that area. So we went out with Captain Liam Payne to pick her up. Niall thought it would be a good idea to look her over for any damage before we dropped her someplace new, so we headed straight home after that. Sorry—why is MI5 interested in this?”

He raised his eyebrows curiously, taking a sip of his still-hot tea.

Agent Nelson pulled out a notepad and took a few notes, and Agent Thirlwall drunk her tea. Neither acknowledged his question. 

“One more question, Mr. Tomlinson. During your trip out on the _Batman!,—_ ” Louis was impressed at how she’s managed to say the name with a completely straight face, “—at any point did you see, hear, or notice anything—anything at all—that was out of the ordinary?” 

Agent Nelson stared him down. Agent Thirlwall shuffled through the papers in front of her. Louis tried to remember how many times was too many times to blink in the space of a few seconds. 

“Nothing. I’m sorry. It was a very boring outing.” His voice came out steadier than he could’ve hoped it would. “Would that be all?”

Agent Thirlwall opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a rather impressive coughing fit from Louis’ bedroom. Both agents snapped their heads towards the door, standing. 

“That’s just my… Harry. He’s sick.” The agents glanced at him suspiciously. The coughing continued.

“Harry!” Louis called without taking his eyes off them. “Are you alright, darling?”

The coughing subsided. 

“I’m fine, Louis!” 

Harry sounded hoarse, and absolutely _not_ fine. Louis frowned and grabbed another mug, pouring him a chamomile and adding extra honey. 

“Was there anything else I can help you with, agents?” He asked, turning.   


The women seemed to have a silent conversation with just their eyebrows. Agent Nelson turned to Louis.

“Yes, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Tomlinson. If you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact us.” She handed Louis a sleek black business card. 

“I hope your boyfriend feels better soon,” added Agent Thirlwall. Louis nodded, too eager to get them out of his apartment to bother correcting her. 

“Thank you for the tea,” Agent Nelson called as they headed towards the front door. Louis shot a quick look towards her cup. It was completely full. 

The spared no backwards glance as they opened the door and left. It shut with a quick _click_ , and Louis slumped against the counter. 

“You can come out now, Hazza,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

Louis heard Harry open the bedroom door and walk towards him softly. He didn’t glance up from his feet, tucking his hands into his sides in the hope they would stop shaking. 

“Louis,” Harry said from where he’d stopped in front of him. 

Louis handed Harry the chamomile tea wordlessly. Harry took it gently, taking a sip. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. Louis took a deep breath, looking up. 

Harry was frowning at him. A few stray curls were escaping his bun, and he’d put one of Louis’ sweaters on. It was a soft lilac one that while ridiculously big on Louis fit him perfectly. 

“Did you mean it?”

Harry cocked his head to the side.

“When you said you had nowhere else to go back to, did you mean it?” Louis’ voice shook. 

“Yes.” 

Louis nodded.

Harry reached a confused hand towards Louis. Possibly to give comfort, possibly to receive it. 

Louis took the hand in both of his and pressed it to his cheek. He turned his face into it and whispered into Harry’s palm.

“Then I’m fine.”

 

@.@

 

Harry’s second week on planet Earth passed with much less fanfare than his first.

On Monday, Louis pulled Niall aside to have a hushed conversation about his visit from MI-fucking-5, and it turned out that Niall had had a similar encounter only hours before. Niall had wanted to call Liam and Zayn to warn them, but Louis firmly reminded him that phone call monitoring was definitely something to be cautious of, and to just trust that they’d be good enough liars. 

Louis’ day didn’t get any less stressful from there, with the end of semester rapidly approaching and his research deadline closing in. 

The moment he got through his front door, he let out a big sigh of relief. 

The relief didn’t last long.

“Louis, I want to learn how to read.” Harry appeared in front of him, floating cross legged. His hair was up in two very cute space buns, and he was (once again) wearing Louis’ sweatpants. And nothing else. Even though Harry had gone to the thrift store with Liam and Zayn and definitely had numerous sweatpants of his own. 

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hi, Harry, how are you?” He muttered sarcastically.

“Rnnnmph.” 

“Okay.” Louis turned on his heel and marched into the bedroom. Harry followed, frowning. 

“Here, put this on,” said Louis, throwing a random shirt at Harry. “And find some shoes, we’re going for a walk.”

“Louis, are you okay?” Harry asked, muffled by the shirt he was wrangling over his head (careful not to mess up his buns).

“I’m fine!” Shrieked Louis. 

Harry’s head appeared through from the shirt. He somehow managed to pull of a judgemental eyebrow raise, despite being stuck inside a Minnie Mouse crop top that Louis bought at Disneyland then never had the courage to wear.

“Louis.” Harry said patiently, adjusting the (slightly too small) shirt. “Are you okay?”  


“You have four nipples,” Louis blurted. 

Harry looked down at his chest and poked one of the extra nubs curiously. 

“Is that not normal?”

“Statistically speaking… no. But it’s not _that_ weird or anything. I just—“ Louis trailed off. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. 

Harry tilted his head to the side. 

“So… We’re going for a walk?”

 

@.@

 

Harry and Louis stepped through the door to the local library approximately 20 minutes before closing. Harry took in the rather modest building with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

“Tada!” Louis gestured. “This is where we keep the knowledge! Well… when the internet has failed us.” 

A tired looking librarian gave Louis the stink-eye as they walked past. 

Harry walked up to the closest bookshelf and plucked one off at random. It was a cooking book. He flipped through it rapidly, scanning the images, then flipped it around to Louis. 

“Wow, thank you Louis. This is so helpful to me, an alien who cannot understand your strange little symbols,” he deadpanned. 

Louis shot him an equally dry look, and then they both burst into giggles. 

“Well, yes, it’ll take Mr Space Noodle Brain a little while to learn, but it takes all humans a while to learn too. Come on.”  
  
Louis grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him towards the children’s section. It was deserted for the time being, thankfully

Louis showed Harry where all the beginners books were, and then where all the special large font books were, and finally he presented him with his—years old, quite unexciting—library card. 

“You can come here while I’m at work, if you want. Maybe borrow some books to try? There’s probably some videos you can watch that will help too.”

Louis looked up nervously from below his lashes. 

Harry’s eyes were sparkling, and he took Louis’ library card as if it were a precious gift. 

“Thank you,” he said, holding it to his chest. He opened his mouth to say something further, when a loud voice on the overhead speaker interrupted him.

“The library is closing in 5 minutes. Please make your way towards the exit.”

It was night as they walked home. Louis was rambling about the books he loved most as a child, the stress of the work day left behind.   


Harry was watching him talk, eyes catching on his hands as he gestured. He smiled to himself, nodding when Louis looked at him for confirmation that he was listening. 

The stars above sparkled, and the moon looked on. 


	6. Chapter 6

_I press my nose to the glass, it’s raining outside, it’s raining outside_

_I would like to storm in, roar like a lion, roar like a lion_

_But I feel your judgement, I feel your judgement, I am sweat, wet and dirty_

_I feel your judgement, I feel your judgement, I bear the stains of imperfection_

\- Hunter of Stars, Sebalter 

 

The rest of Harry’s week was spent in and out of the library. 

The rest of Louis’ week was spent in and out of exhaustion. 

The most notable addition to the schedule occurred on Thursday, when Niall barged in to Louis’ office. 

“Here!” He said, waving an old iPhone in front of Louis’ face. 

Louis batted his hands away in frustration. “Niall, don’t you have a class in ten?”

Niall huffed, then dropped the phone on Louis’ desk. 

“It’s for Harry! There’s a sim and everything, and I programmed all our numbers in, bye!” He yelled and he ran out the door. 

Louis picked up the phone bemusedly. The background photo was already set to an image of one of the horrible little green aliens from Mars Attacks. Charming. 

Harry’s reaction to the phone was, frankly, more cute than a very tired Louis Tomlinson was able to handle. 

He beamed his star-bright beam, dimpled his little moon crater dimples, did a little dance, and then scooped Louis up into a tight hug. 

“It’s not from me, Starbaby, you can put me down now,” he wheezed, patting Harry’s back. 

Harry happily deposited him on the ground, and called Niall. 

Louis fell asleep to the sounds of two of his boys chatting about what guitar tabs they should learn next. 

 

@.@

 

Saturday brought Zayn, Liam and a very strange smelling dish covering in aluminium foil. 

“Here,” grunted Zayn. 

Louis took it and sniffed. It appeared to be a very charred lasagne. 

“Harry!” He called cheerily. “Zayn and Liam have brought us…food!” 

The three of them made their way into the kitchen. Harry was floating outside the window, chatting to Dolores. (Of course he’d named the local mite-infested pigeon Dolores. Louis hadn’t even questioned it, is the worst part. He’d been all ‘wow Harry that’s such a wonderful name!’)

Liam and Zayn stopped dead when they noticed Harry. 

“Harry, get inside right now,” bit out Zayn. 

Harry frowned, confused. 

“What the fuck, Zayn.” Louis plonked the lasagne down onto the counter indelicately. 

“He’s just floating in broad daylight, Louis! Do you or I float? No! You know who floats? People who get taken away by scary MI5 ladies, that’s who!” 

Liam laid a calming hand on Zayn’s shoulder. He seemed conflicted about which side he should take in the argument.

“They’re not watching us 24/7, Zayn, he’s allowed to bloody be himself!” Louis tried not to raise his voice.

Harry crawled through the window with one final coo to Dolores. She took off into the sky, and Harry went to stand next to Louis. 

“How do you know they’re not watching you, Louis?” Liam asked lowly. 

“Well, I—“ Louis looked over at Harry helplessly. 

“Dolores told me.” 

“And who the fuck is Dolores, Harry?” Zayn hissed, hands patting over his pockets. 

Louis pulled his spare packet of cigs from the kitchen drawer and chucked them at Zayn.

“Dolores is a pigeon, you grumpy fuck. Have a smoke and chill out.” Louis barked. 

Zayn stared him down, then left the apartment with the smokes. 

“A…pigeon.” Liam repeated. He watched Zayn leave with heavy eyes.

“Well obviously, Liam. Harry can talk to animals. Keep up.” Louis crossed his arms haughtily, as if he had fully grasped that Harry could in fact commune with wildlife rather than his current state of begrudging acceptance and, occasionally, outright befuddlement. 

Harry ignored Louis’ comment and instead went over to poke at the burnt lasagne on the counter. 

“Is it supposed to be… Black?” He whispered to Louis, throwing a shifty glance at Liam from the corner of his eye. 

Liam chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, no.” 

He offered no explanation as to why it was in such a sorry state. 

“Right.” Louis nodded. He found some plates for everyone. He even set one out for Zayn, because he was an adult goddam it. 

“Do you want to talk about it, Liam?” He asked gently as he used a knife to extract a meal-sized portion of semi-edible lasagne from the middle of the dish. 

Liam collapsed into a chair and stared down at his plate. 

“I’m shit at lying, Louis. Zayn wasn’t around, and neither were you boys,” he flicked his puppy-dog gaze upwards. “I think I might’ve let you down.”

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. “What did you tell them, Liam.” 

Harry made a concerned noise at his tone. Louis throw a glance his way, then put down the knife he’d forgotten he was holding. He hoped he hadn’t been brandishing it like a cartoon villain, but it was far too likely for comfort that he was.

Liam gulped, wide-eyed. “Nothing, Lou, I swear. I told them I didn’t see anything, and neither did any of you. I just… I just don’t think they believed me.” 

Louis sighed and fixed his fringe. He set a full bowl down in front of Liam gently, opening his mouth to talk. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry interrupted. Louis and Liam turned to stare at him in confusion. He squared his shoulders and met their gaze honestly. “You’re all upset, and it has something to do with covering for me. So, I’m sorry that I’m so much trouble.” 

Louis’ eyes prickled, but it was Liam who spoke first. 

“Harry, no. We all love you! Even though you’re a terrifying space man who can apparently talk to pigeons! We’re more than happy to keep you safe, it’s just that we’re not very good at it,” he laughed sadly. 

“Thank you, Liam.” Harry’s gaze was shatteringly earnest. 

Louis’ eyes had yet to stop prickling. 

“Alright, you sap. Eat your delicious and very well cooked lasagne.” Louis presented Liam with a fork, grinning fakely. 

Liam snorted, but dug in. Louis and Harry followed suit, and they ate in companionable silence until Zayn stumbled back in, Niall in tow. 

“Ah! Nialler! Just in time for lasagne!” Louis cried, throwing his arms out. 

Harry moved his bowl of lasagne out of the way of Louis’ theatrics, smiling.

Niall made a point of giving everyone a greeting kiss on the cheek before having a curious sniff of the offering. Harry nodded approvingly at the tactic. 

“Mates… That’s not lasagne, that’s charcoal. Why the fuck are you eating it?”

Liam deflated in his seat. 

“It’s delicious, fucker. Shut up and eat some,” Louis handed his bowl over to Niall. Liam brightened up. Harry gave him a look like he knew what he was up to and wholly approved. 

“So… any plans for today?” Zayn drawled, loitering in the doorway. 

“Yeah, actually!” Niall replied, mouth full of food. “Lou, Haz and I are going to a nature park to look at some trees and other nature crap.” 

Harry nodded, adding, “we’re very adventurous,” in his slow drawl. 

“Well…” Liam trailed off, looking over his shoulder at Zayn. “Can we come too?”

 

@.@

 

“I’m sick of this nature crap!” Cried Niall, three hours later. 

They were stomping through the Nature Reserve from Steve’s list. It was more of a sparse forest, really, but apparently there was a quite nice lake ahead somewhere. They’d been trudging towards it for the better part of two hours, and Louis was amazed it had taken this long for one of them to crack. 

“Tommo, can you ask Harry to carry me? It’s not fair he gets to just float everywhere!” The tone of Niall’s voice reminded Louis of his very young siblings at bedtime. 

“The fuck would I ask him for? He’s just up there, ask him yourself, sunshine,” Louis laughed back, gesturing to where Harry was currently floating along the tree line. He’d been up there for as long as they’d been walking—given how abandoned the place was this time of year, even Zayn decided it was safe enough to do so. Every so often he’d poke his head up above the canopy, but he’d always pull himself back down before too long. Louis remembered what he’d said about being afraid to float away. A glance upwards told him Harry didn’t look very afraid right at the moment. His face was tuned towards the sun, limning him gold and white as wind whipped around his body. He looked angelic. Unreal.

“HAZZA!” Yelled Niall.

Harry flailed clumsily, whipping his head downwards with a grumpy frown on his face. Louis shook himself, the illusion broken. He squinted at the ground, fixing his fringe. When he looked back up it was to find Zayn staring at him knowingly. 

“WHAT!” Harry yelled back. A sparrow was startled into flight on his left, and Harry ignored Niall’s plea to carry him to instead float after it and—presumably—apologise.

“This is why you’ve gotta ask, Lou,” Niall said, giving up on getting Harry’s attention back. 

“Why me?” 

“C’mon, babe, everyone knows you’re his favourite,” Niall slung his arm over Louis’ shoulder companionably. Liam and Zayn nodded in agreement.

Louis made sure to glare at each of them for a very long, very scathing three seconds. Then he bent at the waist and lifted Niall across his shoulders in a fireman carry. 

Niall shrieked dramatically, clinging to whatever parts of Louis his hands would reach. Louis laughed breathlessly and struggled to take a few steps forwards with Niall’s added weight. 

“Why are you so heavy, Horan? You’re a fucking stick!” Louis panted. 

Niall had yet to stop shrieking.

Suddenly, the weight was removed from Louis’ shoulders and the shrieking stopped. Louis collapsed on the ground gratefully, staring upwards. 

Harry had Niall attached to him like a koala. His legs were wrapped around Harry’s waist and his hands were fastened around his neck. 

Harry beamed down at Louis proudly, as if to say ‘you’re welcome’, and Niall beamed down at Louis smugly, as if to say ‘i fucking told you so’.

Louis threw a handful of leaves at the both of them. They only made it halfway up before floating limply back into his face, making him sputter unattractively, but they definitely got the message. So. There. 

Harry poked his tongue out at him.

“Guys!” Liam’s voice rang from up ahead. Louis sat up, eyes scanning. 

He and Zayn had wandered further up the path, and were currently waving towards something below the small hill they were perched on. 

Harry and Niall were already most of the way there by the time Louis had dusted himself off. 

“Race you!” Harry called back at Louis, despite the massive head start he’d gotten. Niall jeered gloatingly, making a rather rude gesture. 

Louis didn’t bother pretending to be above simple playground goading. He took off towards Zayn and Liam, throwing his whole body into the sprint. It had been awhile since his high school days of football prowess, and being stuck behind a desk for years hadn’t really done much for his fitness. Still, never let it be said that Louis Tomlinson loses easy. 

He crested the peak a split second before Harry and Niall flew by overhead. Niall was commentating loudly, and Louis heard snippets such as “close win for Tomlinson, a real standout moment in an otherwise bland career” and “Harry of course worked hard to be here today, he’s from outer space after all ladies and gentlemen!”and “it’s sad news for Starman that he couldn’t match up to The Tommo” over the roaring in his ears. 

Niall’s screeching laughter cut off any further commentary, and Louis recognised the sound of his best friend being ruthlessly tickle attacked. He snorted, still panting.

When he eventually got his breathing under control, he looked up and stumbled downwards into…a clearing. 

It was beautiful and wide, wildflowers growing and bees flitting to and fro. The sun was shining over the scene, but there was still a little bite of winter to the air. It was disgustingly picturesque and absolutely, definitively _not_ a lake. 

Louis forgot all about the juvenile gloating he was about to loudly partake in as he took it all in. He walked into the clearing, brushing his hands over the taller grass and flowers.

He turned around to where the rest of the boys were. They were all equally star-struck with the meadow, looking around with awe-filled smiles. Niall had even forgotten to get down from where he was still clinging to Harry’s torso.

“Harry,” Louis started softly. He was almost afraid to break the silence, as if he’d ruin the beauty of the place by speaking in it somehow. “I thought you said some birds told you there was a lake here?” Louis’ tone conveyed no judgement: only wonder. 

Harry set Niall down softly. He walked over to Louis, pausing when he was right in front of him. 

“Surprise,” he drawled, tucking a curl behind his ear. His hair was down today, flowing past his shoulders. It almost reached his past his collarbones, which was definitely new. 

_That grows fast,_ Louis thought. Add it to the growing list of things about Harry’s human body that were charmingly unsettling (which was definitely not a list Louis had been mentally keeping).

“It’s lovely, Harry. We would have come here even if you hadn’t said there was a lake.” Louis searched Harry’s eyes, as if his intentions were somewhere in them.   
  
_They very well might be,_ he thought. The little specks of gold in Harry’s iris’s flashed in the sunlight.

Harry broke eye contact and shuffled his feet. Then he cleared his throat. 

“Well…” He trawled off. A bee landed on his shoulder, and he took a moment to hum at it in greeting. “I didn’t mean to lie, I just sort of realised that I didn’t know the word for a place like this in English and not in… birdish. And we didn’t bring anything for me to draw with, so I…improvised.”

In the time it took Harry to ramble out that entire story, five more bees had landed on him. They settled on his cheeks, in his hair, on his shirt. He didn’t seem remotely phased by this development. 

Louis took an alarmed step backwards as yet another three bees settled on his head. 

A look of hurt flashed over Harry’s face, and Louis held his hands out instantly. 

“Oh, no, darling, it’s fine! I forgive you! I’m sorry we didn’t bring anything to draw with. It’s been a while since you didn’t know a word, we’re all very impressed. Aren’t we impressed?” Louis directed that last bit over Harry’s shoulder to where Liam, Niall and Zayn were currently sat in the middle of the meadow. They looked up from what they were doing—which was, surprisingly, crafting three very wonky flower crowns—and called back affirmations with various levels of enthusiasm. 

Harry beamed at them, then at Louis. Another four bees had appeared since Louis had last counted. 

Putting a concerted effort into sounding casual, Louis said, “Hey, Hazza, that’s an awful lot of bees, isn’t it?”   


Harry looked down at his shirt, then around his person. He blinked prettily at Louis, then shrugged. None of his movements seemed to disturb the bees in any way. There were about 30 of them now. 

“They like me. One of them said that I’m like a giant flower, and another one said that I smell warm.”

“Of course, of course,” Louis nodded along. “They’re not… going to sting you or anything, right?”

Harry frowned, alarmed.

“What?”

“Sting you? Like, with their little stingers? Make an ouchie?” Louis demonstrated by poking a finger into his arm. 

Harry snorted. The bees buzzed in agreement. All 50 of them. 

“No. They’re lovely.” He turned his head to whisper mockingly to one of the bees, “make an ouchie,” Then he giggled. 

It was, Louis decided, utterly unfair that an alien man could still be completely adorable even when covered in bees and making fun of him. 

Louis saw a swarm of bees headed towards Harry, and decided it was time to leave.

“Okay, bye,” Louis called manically, jogging over to where the rest of the boys were sprawled leisurely. Harry and his bees could have fun together while Louis was outside of the radius of potential stinging. 

“What have we got here, lads?” He asked, draping himself across Liam’s lap. Liam shuffled around a little to accommodate for his weight, then planted a flower crown on his head. It was made of poppies and marigolds (and a healthy amount of stems and leaves). Louis lifted a dainty hand up to adjust it on his hair, then turned towards Niall and Zayn. 

“Am I the queen of the forest now, boys?”

Zayn nodded sagely. Niall muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “queen of the fairies more like”. 

“Oi, then, Nialler, what’s on your mind? Do you have something to say to your queen?” He leant back into Liam’s chest, imitating his very best regal sprawl. 

“Yeah, I do have something to say, your majesty,” Niall leaned forward to place yet another flower crown on Louis’ head. His eyes had a mischievous shine to them. “Eat sh—“

“Hi, boys! Would you like to meet my new friends?” Interrupted Harry. He was standing behind Niall. He was also covered head to toe in bees. 

He turned his smile—one of the few visible parts of him—towards Louis. It seemed to get tighter as he took in Liam’s arm around his waist. 

“What the fuck,” whispered Zayn. Niall shuffled backwards very carefully, then pushed himself up and took off in the direction of the trail. 

“Have fun dealing with that, ya mad cunts!” He yelled over his shoulder. 

Harry watched him go sadly, a slump to his shoulders. 

“Does he not like bees?” He asked.

Louis pushed himself to a standing position. He tried to make his legs move forwards so he could comfort Harry, but his eyes got stuck on the writhing mass of insects that he was currently coated in and he couldn’t quite manage it. 

“Your bees are wonderful, Harry,” offered Liam diplomatically. Zayn stood, pulling him up with him. He placed his flower crown on top of the other two on Louis’ head, then dragged himself and Liam out of the clearing after Niall. 

“Great bees, Hazza! Really bring out your eyes!” He choked out as they disappeared back into the forest. 

Harry turned his attention back to Louis. 

“Do you want me to ask them to leave, Lou?” He muttered. 

Louis plastered a grin to his face. 

“Absolutely not! I want you to introduce me to every single one of them. Do they have names?”

Harry beamed excitedly, making a few humming noises at the bees. A handful of them flew towards Louis, landing softly on his flower crown stack. 

“Those ones like you more than me,” Harry confessed. The bees buzzed around Louis’ ears. Louis stood very, very still.

“They think you look very handsome in with flowers. They say they love you even if you can’t understand them, and they want to take you back with them to depose their current queen.”

Harry looked very serious about the message he was imparting.

“Babe… Can you _actually_ understand bees?” 

Harry’s mouth twitched for just a second, and that was all Louis needed to know. 

“Harry!” He squealed, horrified and endeared. He dislodged the bees on his head in the course of his excitement, but they just buzzed back over to Harry. “What the fuck!”

Harry was shaking his head, the very picture of innocence. If innocence was being covered in bees.

“No, come on, Harry. I know you’re bullshitting me. Fess up.” Louis was very tempted to poke Harry in the stomach, which was a tried and true method of getting him to admit to things, but there was the small matter of _bee armour_ that stopped him. 

Harry pouted and frowned. The bees buzzed. Slowly—so slowly—a cheeky grin spread over his face. 

“You absolute fuck!” Louis laughed, delighted. Harry honked a laugh. 

“Why are they all over you, then, sweetheart?” Louis’ laughter melted into concern. 

“I don’t know. I think they just like me. I’m very likeable.” 

Louis nodded. 

“Well, can you be unlikeable for a second so they can get off you and we can go home? I know it’s hard for you to not be charming, but I’m a little worried those traitorous fuckers have left without us.”  


“I’ll try, Louis.” Harry scrunched up his face in mock-concentration, squinting his eyes and tensing his muscles. He looked, to put it delicately, like he was trying not to fart. The bees did not move. 

“Well, that didn’t work.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.”  


 

It was a very long walk back to the car with Harry still covered in bees. When they reached it, it was to find Niall, Liam and Zayn inside already. It was Niall’s car, so naturally the forest was filled with the summer pop hits of Carly Rae Jepsen. 

“Oh, sick, I love Favourite Colour,” Harry commented. 

“That’s nice, Harry,” Louis said absently. He was still a little busy trying to come up with a plan to de-bee Harry that didn’t involve them both being stung to death. 

“Maybe if we spray some water? Obviously we don’t have access to the proper beekeeper smoke shit…” Louis muttered under his breath. 

Harry responded by singing to him. “ _When I’m close to you, you blend into my favourite colour.”_

Louis tried not to blush. 

Zayn rolled down the window behind them. “Mate, the bees love it when you sing! That’s so sick!” Louis looked over at Zayn, then back to Harry. The bees did seem to be responding to his voice—they were… dancing, almost. Where they had previously been content to just cling to every part of his body, some were now taking off to fly jovially in the air around him. 

Louis clapped excitedly. “Harry! Sing more!”

Harry looked him dead in the eye, and Louis froze. “ _I’m bright baby blue, falling into you, falling for each other.”_ More and more bees were leaving him, buzzing along to the song. “ _Should I stay? Making love until the morning light, making out like it’s the end of the world. And I really wanna get it right.”_

The last of the bees had flitted away by Harry’s last note, leaving him fully clothed but somehow very naked. Louis fixed his fringe uncomfortably. Harry was still staring at him significantly. 

_It’s just a song, Tommo. Stop reading into things,_ thought Louis.

“I guess Jupiter Ascending was right with all that crap about bees and space royalty!” Yelled Niall raucously. He was leaning the top half of his body out of the driver’s side window, a pair of neon yellow sunglasses on his face. Where he’d got them—and why he hadn’t been wearing them all day—Louis had no idea.

“Next there’ll be space wolves and lizard people running about!” Louis cried, leaping on the distraction. If he was masking his anxiety with loudness and pep then, well, that was no one’s business but his own.

“Lizard people?” Zayn muttered, still sitting in the passenger’s seat. Liam was sprawled in the back with his head pillowed on the window, fast asleep. 

“Yeah, Zayn, wasn’t that who Eggy Radman was supposed to be? A Lizard person?”

Louis opened car door opposite Liam, turning to check on Harry. He was still standing by the trees, a sad look on his face, completely bee-less. 

Zayn turned around in his seat grumpily. “He wasn’t a lizard person, bebz, did you even watch the movie? He was—“ 

“Shut up, Zayn,” Louis said, without heat. He tilted his head at Harry curiously.

“Hazza? Are you coming?” 

Harry looked up, nodding. He walked over to the car and slid past Louis into the middle seat, wordlessly…Touchlessly. 

Louis frowned, put shuffled into the seat next to him. 

“Alright, kiddos, are we off?” Niall asked, turning around in the driver’s seat. He noticed Liam’s impromptu nap, and rummaged around in the glove box before pulling out a very fetching sunhat which he laid delicately over Liam’s face.

“Yes, please.” Harry answered after a beat. Niall nodded, not questioning his sad tone of voice. Louis moved to put a comforting hand on Harry’s knee—perhaps he was reeling from the loss of his hoard of bees?—but he second guessed himself. He leant against the window instead, hit mother’s words rattling around in his head. _‘_ You always did get attached easily, darling’. 

Niall cranked up Ms Jepson as he pulled out of the carpark. 

_I'll be your lighthouse when you're lost at sea_

_I'll keep my light on, baby, you can always come to me_

_I wanna be the place you call your home…_

 

@.@

 

That night Louis was doing the dishes while trying not to listen in to Zayn and Harry’s conversation out on the balcony. When they’d got home, Liam and Niall had collapsed into a cuddle nap on the couch, Harry had excused himself outside, and Louis had been left with Zayn. 

“Are you doing okay?” Louis had asked. 

Zayn frowned, considering. Louis was surprised, then, when he walked forwards with his arms outstretched. Louis settles himself into the hug, squeezing Zayn’s slight frame. 

“I’m just worried about you both,” Zayn muttered into Louis’ hair. “If you get arrested then I won’t get my credits for being your research assistant.” 

Louis snorted into his shoulder. 

Zayn eventually broke the hug, looking out towards the balcony. Harry was sat on the ground, back against the glass and looking at the view through the bars of the railing. There was a fierce wind outside, but he didn’t seem to be cold. 

Louis grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, smiling at Liam and Niall’s sleeping faces as he passed. 

“Here, go talk to him.” Louis bundled the blanket into Zayn’s arms, pushing him towards the door. 

Zayn glared over his shoulder, but went. Louis watched as he slid open the door and greeted Harry. 

Harry accepted the blanket with a confused smile, glancing back at Louis through the glass. 

Louis grabbed the nearest thing, trying not to look like he’d been watching.

It was a scrubbing brush. 

_Guess I’m doing the dishes now,_ thought Louis. Zayn had left the door open just a crack, and the temperature of the kitchen was getting colder and colder. He didn’t dare close the door, though, because every so often when the wind let up he’d hear a soft whisper. 

“—sorry for this morning, Haz—“

“—should be yourself, I didn’t mean—“

“—Louis—“

Louis looked up at the mention of his name. Zayn had lit a cigarette at some point, and the wind was swallowing both its smoke and his words. He crept forwards towards the door as far as he could without it being too obvious. 

“He’s a good guy, but he’s also… lonely. I need you to promise me that you aren’t taking advantage of him, Harry.”

Harry looked alarmed.

“Taking advantage?” He repeated confusedly. 

Zayn waved his cigarette vaguely. 

Harry turned his head, finding Louis standing behind the glass door. He didn’t look at all surprised to see him there. Louis didn’t move, frozen. Harry just watched him. He wasn’t even blinking, it seemed. Eventually, he turned back to Zayn. 

He whispered something, expression sincere. Louis wished that he could hear what he’d said. He guessed that was the point, though. That he couldn’t. Zayn at least seemed satisfied with the answer. Louis went back to his dishes.


	7. Chapter 7

_I consider you, I consider you,_

_I consider you._

_From your hill of beans I will sit and roar_

_Thinking to myself: What are you waiting for?_

_I consider you, I consider you,_

_I consider you._

\- Beast, Agnes Obel

 

 

The rest of Harry’s first month on Earth passed similarly. Harry spend his days in the library, Louis spent his days frantically marking assignments and trying to make his research make any sense. 

Liam gave hushed reports at their weekly hangout night, updating the boys on the police presence in the marina. By week three, they had apparently dwindled. 

Once, Harry saw Agents Thirlwall and Nelson out for coffee on his way home from the library. Apparently, all he’d done was wave politely and keep walking. Luckily, he hadn’t been wearing one of his more…outlandish outfits on that day. He’d amassed quite a large wardrobe in a small space of time, and almost all of it was utterly incomprehensible—at times not even recognisable as clothing. He was drawn to bright prints and interesting fabrics. He didn’t care much for the distinction between skirts, pants, dresses, and full body ponchos. Needless to say, he was a hit with the children at the library. 

Winter ended, and Spring sunk its teeth into the city. Harry was thrilled with all the new friends he could make—pigeons and sparrows and gulls and street-cats and, once, a rather large rat. He learned not to talk to these new friends on the street after a rather rude lady impolitely inquired if there was a hospital or institution that was missing him. Harry had looked so caught off guard at the exchange, and Louis was glad he’d happened to be there so he could tell her exactly where to shove it. 

That night was the first night Harry spent in Louis’ bed. He’d looked so distraught for the rest of the day, pinched brows and long silences. Not even the tea and biscuits Louis had fed him had cheered him up, so Louis threw his better judgement out the window and dragged him into a snuggle session under warm blankets. Louis had been trying—and failing—to cut back on how physically affectionate he was being with Harry. He was learning more and more about humanity, and he didn’t exactly need Louis to cling all over him during that process.

Harry made such a contented noise as he snuggled his head into Louis chest that Louis almost rethought the entire strategy. Louis combed a hand through his hair, the other firmly squeezing his torso. He didn’t even mind that he was slowly being crushed by Harry’s weight. 

He’d gladly be crushed a thousand times if it meant Harry felt safe. Felt…loved. 

“Do people think I’m weird, Louis?” Harry had asked. He didn’t sound mournful anymore, he just sounded resigned. That was worse, somehow. 

“Of course not, darling,” Louis soothed. He was so bad at this. 

Harry made a disbelieving noise into Louis’ collarbone, pulling back. Louis wrapped his arms tighter around him, not letting go.

“It doesn’t matter if people think you’re weird, Harry, alright? Fuck ‘em. You can be happy even if other people don’t think you’re normal. Being normal is bullshit, there’s no such thing.”

Harry was silent for such a long time that Louis had started to nod off. As such, the next morning he couldn’t quite remember if he’d actually heard Harry’s soft reply or if he’d merely dreamed it. 

“I wish I could believe that, Louis.”

 

@.@ 

 

Louis woke up the next morning with a mouthful of hair and an armful of alien boy. One of said arms was definitely numb, and Louis was shivering a little from where Harry had hogged the entire blanket. 

Louis also woke up feeling the most content he’d possibly ever felt, so. There was that. 

He stretched a little, wiggling his arm to try and wake it. Then he froze. Because he was definitely hard, and his dick was definitely pressed right against Harry’s arse. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, renewing his efforts to detangle himself. 

Harry made a grumbling noise, and Louis felt the vibrations on his dick. He stopped moving again, and looked to the ceiling for some kind of divine intervention. 

“Morning,” Harry mumbled, turning around to face Louis. His hair was spread at all angles, mostly in his face, and his breath wasn’t exactly a field of daisies, but he was smiling so wide that both dimples were out. He was, in a word, breathtaking. 

Literally. 

“Hnng?” Louis stuttered out. 

Harry frowned, shuffling closer in Louis’ arms. His movement pressed their hips together, and it was at once obvious that Harry was as hard as he was. 

_Fuck._

“Are you okay, Louis?” Harry sounded genuinely concerned. He pulled a slow hand up to feel his head. “This is how you tell when someone’s sick, right?” He asked, frowning at his hand. 

Louis, still incapable of forming words, nodded. 

Harry made a concerned cooing noise and wrapped Louis up into his arms. Louis stared, unblinking, at Harry’s chest in front of his face. He was trying to come up with the most unsexy images, but with Harry’s naked fucking dick pressed right up against his pants-covered one it was hard to conjure up any image except static. 

Harry ran a hand down his back, still cooing. The situation was clearly not going to resolve itself. 

“Excuse me,” Louis choked out, ripping out of Harry’s arms and running (uncoordinatedly) towards the bathroom, where he had the world’s coldest shower. 

The thing was… Once Louis got out of the shower and went into the kitchen for a stiff cup of tea, Harry was there already. Reading one of his library books, and preparing two cups of tea. He handed one to Louis with a sad smile.   
  
“Thank you for letting me sleep in your bed last night, Louis. It’s much more comfortable than the floor.”  
  
His big green eyes were earnest, and he’d tied his hair up in three little buns on random places on his head using some glittery scrunchies Louis had bought him. He was disgustingly beautiful. 

Shit. 

“You didn’t tell me the floor wasn’t comfortable, sweetheart,” Louis melted. “You can sleep in my bed every night, alright?”

Louis regretted the words as soon as he’d said them, imagining the mental strength he’d have to come up with somehow in order to survive waking up to a warm bed full of Harry every morning. There was no way he’d make it through that with his sanity intact. 

But. Still. Harry beamed at his words, and he handed him his cup of tea (prepared exactly as he liked it, of course), and started off on a very long story about Croatia, a country he’d only just discovered and was very interested in visiting.

Louis listened attentively, if sadly. Almost every day, Harry would come home from the library with a new story to tell about the world, and how he longed to see it. The Marianas Trench, Uluru, Yellowstone Park, Thailand, Iran, New Zealand… Everywhere Louis couldn’t take him.

A week passed, and every morning Louis woke up to a voice like crumbling mahogany—he wasn’t the most coherent in the mornings, sue him—and it didn’t really get any easier. A couple times there was even a repeat of the Boner Incident, but Louis would always just excuse himself quietly whilst ignoring Harry’s confused expression. 

“I just… I don’t know what to do, Liam,” Louis said. It was a Friday night, and the rest of the lads were crammed into the living room to listen—rapt—as Harry played the cover of Starman he’d been working on all week. Louis had heard it about fifty times by now, in various stages of completion. It wasn’t any less of a gut punch to hear Harry’s rich voice singing David Bowie, though. 

Louis and Liam were in the kitchen. Louis was sitting on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen, watching Niall and Zayn fuss over Harry’s talent. Liam leant against the counter to his left. 

Louis had been keeping his feelings in all week, and he’d dragged off the first person to walk through the door for some advice. He’d never actually asked Liam for advice, he realised. He’d just rattled off about the bedsharing situation with Harry, and now Liam was left looking slightly stunned. 

“It’s not that I don’t think I can tell him what an erection is or anything like that,” Louis hastens to add, waving his hands. He tried to keep his voice down, but Liam’s silence was making him second guess himself. “I know he knows what sex is, d’you remember the other night when Niall taught him all those dirty jokes?” 

Liam nodded, face cracking into a childish snicker. 

“It’s just that…” Louis trailed off again. He looked back over at Harry, who had moved onto his cover of Starboy by The Weeknd. He’d been on a google binge of all the best alien songs, and over the past week that he’d been learning Starboy he’d walk past Louis from time to time and whisper in his ear ‘I’m a motherfucking starboy’ before running off while cackling. It stopped being cute after the fifth time he’d frightened Louis to death. 

“Is it that you’re scared?” Liam asked, with frightening insight. 

Louis’ hackles rose automatically at the very suggestion, but one look at Liam’s soft caring face and he sighed deeply. 

“Yeah.” Louis dragged a hand down his face. He was wearing one of the hoodies Harry had bought, and the sleeves dangled over his hands ridiculously—just like he preferred. “If I start a conversation about what it means, then… He’s an alien, Liam. Even if he says he means to stay here, the Earth is still so fucking big. And I’m just… Me. All he can talk about lately is all the places he wants to see, the cultures and the sights, and how can I give that to him? How can I ask him to choose me?” Louis meets Liam’s sad gaze, and mutters a final broken sentence. It’s something that he’s never said to anyone out loud, something he doesn’t really let himself think very often. “No one chooses me.”

Liam listened to his words with a carefully neutral face. From the other room, Harry started playing Colours by Grouplove. 

_I am a man, man, man, man_

_Up up in the air_

_And I run around, round, round, round this down town_

_And act like I don't care._

Liam raised a careful hand and patted Louis on the head. From anyone else, the gesture would come off as condescending. From Liam, it was nothing but sincere. 

“Thanks, man,” Louis said. Liam nodded, then made him a cup of tea.

They spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence while watching Harry play.

_So when you see me flying by the planet’s moon,_

_You don’t need to explain if everything’s changed_

_Just know I’m just like you._

 

@.@

 

Louis was shuffling papers around his desk. It was Monday morning, and the last week of semester, and he’d finished all his marking. The only thing left to do was collate his research and finalise all his conclusions from his data. He blew out a breath.

There was a brisk knock on the door. 

“Come in!” Louis called, fixing the headband he’d thrown on this morning in a rush. 

The door opened, and in walked Agents Thirlwall and Nelson. They surveyed Louis’ small office—humble, by any standard, and filled to the brim with books and knick-knacks—with an air of professional interest. 

Louis cleared his throat nervously. “Good morning, Agents. How can I help you?” 

Agent Thirlwall took a seat on the other side of Louis’ desk, despite not having been offered to. 

“We just have a couple more questions, Mr. Tomlinson,” she stated. Agent Nelson crossed her arms from where she was hovering in the corner of the room. Her gaze was stony. 

Louis nodded, because he didn’t trust his voice to not give him away. 

“How’s your boyfriend doing, Louis?” Agent Thirlwall asked, not unkindly. Louis grit his teeth, then smiled blandly. 

“Oh, do you mean Harry? He’s actually not my boyfriend. And he’s doing much better, thanks for asking.”  


Agent Nelson spoke up, slow and sarcastic. “He’s not your boyfriend, but he stays in your bed when he’s sick? Makes sense.” 

Louis narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t see why this is any of your business?” 

“Well…” Agent Thirlwall answered, glancing over at Agent Nelson. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“Then I’m afraid my relationship with Harry is also classified,” Louis quipped. 

Agent Nelson’s mouth twitched. 

“Alright. Thank you for your time, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m sure we’ll be in contact soon.” Agent Thirlwall smiled politely, standing. 

Louis kept his mouth shut, lest he say something else he’d regret. He didn’t let out the breath he was holding until the door clicked shut. 

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, hands twitching. He scrambled for his phone, dialling Harry’s number. He was met with the automatic answering machine. As much as he loved his phone, Harry wasn’t the best at remembering to charge it.

“Shit!” 

Louis jumped up from his desk and threw his coat on. He bolted out the office door, slowing to a fast walk as he past some students on their way to class. He knew, logically, that rushing to Harry’s side right now was possibly the most incriminating thing he could do, but he also didn’t give a shit. If the agents were interested in him, then he was already in danger. 

He started his car with shaking hands, grateful he hadn’t taken the bus this morning like he normally did. It was only a ten minute drive to the library, but it was the longest ten minutes of his life. 

When he finally arrived, he parked in a rush and sped into the library. His eyes scanned the ground floor, searching through the stacks until he spotted Harry. 

He ground to a halt.

Harry was sitting on a brightly coloured rug, crosslegged, and surrounded by children. Very young children. They were listening, rapt, as he read out a Dr Seuss book, arms waving and face expressive. He was wearing a new dress he’d found in a vintage store, loose and floral, and his hair was done in wonky braids. There were some parents loitering, watching over their kids, but none of them seemed remotely offput by either his presence or his clothing. In fact, almost all of them had rather fond expressions on their face. 

_This is the worst day of my life,_ thought Louis. He walked quietly over to the back wall, standing with a group of parents. He didn’t want to interrupt the reading, especially when it was clear how much he’d overreacted. 

“Isn’t he wonderful,” a man next to Louis enthused. “We make sure to bring Holly by every week for his reading, she looks forward to it all weekend!”

Louis smiled thinly. “Yes, he is wonderful.”   
  
Even though Louis only spoke in a hushed whisper, Harry’s head still perked up and swivelled his way. He kept reading, but he was hindered by the big goofy grin on his face at seeing Louis.

Louis wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

If the car ride to the library was long, it was nothing compared to the rest of Harry’s reading time. It wasn’t just reading, actually. Once the book was finished he made everyone join their little hands together and sing a quick song about rainbows or something, then pick a person they hadn’t hugged yet and give them a big cuddle. Louis almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of a little girl with impressively fuzzy hair standing on two unsteady feet and requesting a hug from Harry. She was practically swallowed in his arms, but she looked so incredibly pleased. 

Eventually, all the kids were delivered safely back to their respective parents, after Harry had a little chat with each of them about how wonderful their child was. 

After the last parents had left the library, Harry walked over to Louis. 

“How do you get them to be so calm, Harry?” Louis blurted. It was something he’d been wondering; a group of toddlers crammed together for half an hour, and not one tear? 

Harry tucked some stray hair behind his ear. “Um. Babies like me?”

Louis narrowed his eyes playfully. “Babies like you like bees like you?”

Harry snorted, scrunching his nose up. “I guess.” 

Then he looked up at Louis. His gaze turned wistful. “What are you doing here, Lou?”

“Well, the thing is… I was worried about you.”

“Why?” Harry frowned.

Louis took a deep breath. “I had a visit today in my office from those MI5 agents. They were asking about you.”

Harry’s face was carefully blank. “Oh.”

Louis didn’t let Harry out of his sight for the rest of the night. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. He got Niall to reschedule all his appointments, and he and Harry spent the rest of the day in front of the TV watching all the Disney movies Harry hadn’t seen yet. Harry’s legs were in Louis’ lap. Harry didn’t bring up the iron grip Louis had on his ankle, and Louis didn’t bring up anything at all. 

 

@.@

 

The next morning, Louis knocked on Steve’s office door. He waited for an ‘it’s open!’ before entering. Steve was sat at his desk, tinkering with some piece of advanced technology that Louis was utterly stumped by. 

“Didn’t the Dean tell you that she’d fire you if she caught you doing recreational tinkering during office hours again?” Louis sassed. 

Steve looked up from his work, smiling. “Bro! Good to see you.” He completely ignored Louis’ question. 

Louis smiled back easily. His smile dimmed slightly when he remembered the reason for his visit. 

“I’ve got a favour to ask, Aoki.”

Steve waved him in, and Louis sat heavily in the chair facing Steve’s desk. 

“What’s on your mind, Louis?” Steve asked gently. 

Louis fidgeted. “Well,” he started, “I know that you know some… people… who might be able to get me identification papers for a friend of mine who’s here through not so legal means.”

Steve held his gaze calmly. “How legit does the identity need to be?”   


Louis winced. “Very, very legit.”

Steve stroked his beard. “Yeah. I think I can help.”

 

@.@

 

It wasn’t until two days later that Louis arrived home with a birth certificate, passport and bank account made out to one Harry Styles. The ‘friend’ of Steve’s that had procured the necessary documents was, without a doubt, the creepiest motherfucker Louis had ever had the misfortune of meeting. 

Thank god he would never have to see Ben Winston ever again. He shivered in disgust, pushing the front door open. Immediately, he was assaulted with the warmth of the apartment. 

“Harry?” He called, dumping his bag and toeing off his toms. 

“In the kitchen, honey!” Called a voice. 

“Honey?” Louis muttered to himself. Harry wasn’t normally one to give pet-names.

Louis turned the corner into the living room, and immediately spotted Harry in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the kitchen table, dressed in a frilly cream shirt, a black vest, and a shiny black full-length skirt. He looked, quite frankly, like someone who’d raided the costume department of some strange pirate musical. The weirdness didn’t end there. Louis stepped into the kitchen, looking around in wonder. Every single surface was covered in candles. There were at least a hundred. The table was full covered dishes. Judging by the aroma, Harry had made a full Sunday Roast. 

“What…” Louis gaped. There was a small meow at his feet, and he jumped back in surprise. A cat was sitting there with a single rose in its mouth. It looked at him judgementally, then placed the rose at his feet. 

Harry made a low vibrating noise, and the cat padded over to lick his bare ankle before hopping out the window and disappearing down the fire escape. 

“What the fuck.”

Harry beamed. 

“Harry,” Louis started slowly. He paused to bend down and pick up the rose. Louis turned it around in his hands then sniffed it delicately. “What is this?” 

Harry’s smile lost a little energy. “A surprise?”

Louis tried to control the fond look that took over his face. He was sure his mouth was doing something ridiculous. 

Harry stepped forwards and pulled out the chair on Louis’ side of the table. Then he bowed and waved at it.

Louis snorted, but sat down. “This is lovely, Harry, but…why?”

Harry sat down in the opposite chair. He shrugged carefully. “I know you’re going through a lot of trouble to help me. I don’t think I understand it, but I know that it’s hard for you. That’s why.” 

Louis looked into his eyes searchingly. Harry looked as earnest as ever, but he was also… nervous.

“Well, in that case, thank you!” Louis said brightly. “What did you make?” 

Harry jumped at the opportunity to show off his cooking skills, uncovering each dish to reveal peas, mash, glazed carrots, roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, and roast potatoes. Louis’ eyes got wider at each revelation, and once he’d made sure Harry was blushing from all the loud praise Louis heaped on him he dug in with genuine enthusiasm. 

Halfway through the meal, Louis noticed that some of the candles were getting to be a little too close to a fire hazard for comfort. Harry agreed that he could blow them out, but he finished his meal with a small pout. 

“Well, Harold,” Louis said, fork cluttering onto his empty plate, “that was the best fucking Sunday roast I’ve ever eaten, including ones that I ate on an actual Sunday. That’s high praise from a Tomlinson.” 

Harry sniffed exaggeratedly. “Thank you.” 

Louis stared at him for a beat. When Harry said nothing further, he started to stack the dishes. 

“It’s only fair I clean up, darling, since you made it,” he said, pulling the knife from the roast beef carefully.

“No! I should—“ Harry started, reaching for Louis’ hand to stop him. Louis pulled back his hand, but in Harry’s haste he slipped and sliced his hand on the sharp edge of the blade.

“Fuck!” Louis cursed, dropping the knife and shooting to his feet. 

Harry was still sat, calmly staring at his open palm. There was a long, deep cut across the middle. Blood dripped onto the table. 

“Harry, come on, we’ve got to stop the bleeding,” Louis panicked, grabbing a tea towel and moving to press it into the cut. 

Harry stood, pulling his hand back into his chest. Blood was smeared all over his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice it. 

“Louis, it’s alright,” he soothed. 

“It’s not alright, Harry, you’re losing a lot of blood. Just let me—“ Louis tried to grab his arm, but Harry stepped backwards. 

“Don’t worry about it, Louis. I’m fine.”  
  
“Harry!” Louis yelled. Harry winced. “You’re not fucking fine! You have to go to the hospital!” 

Harry didn’t acknowledge that. He just blinked down at his palm. 

“For fuck’s sake—“

“Look.” Harry’s voice was even, his gaze pleading. “It’s fine, see?”

He turned his palm over. Louis was hit with a wave of nausea at the amount of blood now coating his arm and hand, but Harry just smoothed it out of the way of the cut. And… there was no cut. At least, not anymore. 

Louis grabbed the palm, inspecting it. He poked at the skin, and Harry giggled. He fucking giggled. Covered in blood, five minutes after he’d sliced his hand open, and he was giggling. 

“Harry, how long have you known you could do that,” Louis asked. His voice was low, dark. 

Harry frowned. “Is that not normal? Can’t you do that?”

Louis let go of him, stepping backwards. Harry looked hurt and confused. He curled in on himself protectively under Louis’ heavy gaze. 

“No, Harry. _Humans_ can’t do that.”  
  
“I’m human,” Harry defended weakly. “I’m a human now.”

Louis shook his head. He looked at the kitchen table, the floor, Harry’s shirt. All coated in at least a litre of blood. “You’re not. You’re really not.” Louis’ voice was only a whisper, but it echoed in the silence that followed.

“Okay,” Harry choked out. He walked quickly over to the window and was gone before Louis could stop him. 

“Fuck,” Louis choked. 


	8. Chapter 8

_Wrapped inside a cocoon made of flesh and bones_

_Doesn’t really matter where you come from._

_We are home_

_We are home_

_Home._

\- Home, Aurora

 

 

“What’s with you and Harry, Louis?” Niall asked. It was the following Friday. Lads night. 

The past week had been spent mostly with long, sad silences. Louis would stare at Harry, then Harry would meet his eyes and Louis would look away, and Harry would stare until Louis looked back. It just went on like that, around and around. 

It’s not that Louis hadn’t felt awful about what he’d said, even if it was technically true. It was that… well. He’d been thinking. He’d been thinking about how Harry’s hair grows so quickly, and the blank look on his face as he’d stared at his bleeding hand, and how he could fly and talk to animals and it was probable that if he had regenerative healing than he might not ever age. He’d also been thinking about Harry’s face screwed up in concentration as he followed along with a braid tutorial on youtube, the way his tongue poked out a little when he drew the latest dream he’d had so Louis could explain it to him, the way he giggled when you poked him in one of his soft love handles, the way he’d lit a hundred candles and cooked a full meal just to cheer Louis up, the way he smelled like vanilla even when he didn’t own any body wash, the look of joy on his face when he woke up to Louis every morning—which had been a knife to the gut this week in particular. The way he laughed, the way he sang, the way he ate, the way he had nothing but kindness for every living creature he ever encountered, the way he tried so fucking hard to be like every other human, the way… the way Louis was completely, utterly, fucking awfully in love with every single part of him. 

And now Niall was staring at him with kind eyes, asking him what was with Louis and Harry. Like Louis could ever possibly answer that. Like Louis even knew the answer.

Louis just shook his head, in the end. He looked away. Harry was sitting on the couch with Liam and Zayn, and they were watching ET. All three of them were crying already, and it had only been on for half an hour. Louis was in the kitchen, pretending to make tea. Apparently it was Niall’s turn to follow him and gently offer some support. Louis was looking forward to next Friday, when, if the pattern continued, it would be Zayn’s go. Knowing Zayn, he wouldn’t bother asking well-meaning questions. Or even talking at all, for that matter. 

Niall seemed to take his non-answer for an answer, though, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. 

“So I heard you had to deal with Steve’s awful friend Ben,” he said, changing the subject.

Louis coughed, surprised. “How do you know Ben?”

Niall made a face Louis could only describe as the face you made when you accidentally poured off milk into your tea. “Ugh, he got me out of a parking ticket once. Next time I’ll just cop the fine.”

“Yeah, a truly unpleasant man,” Louis nodded.

“Christ, mate, you must be really gone for ‘im if the worst insult you’ve got is ‘unpleasant’.”

“Fuck off,” Louis hissed. He wasn’t quite sure if he was kidding. 

He grabbed the tea he’d made—it was cold, now—and stomped over to curl in one of the armchairs. 

Harry stared at him sadly until Louis glanced his way, then he looked quickly back to the screen. Louis sighed.

 

@.@

 

The stalemate was broken the very next day. Louis was camped out in the living room putting the final touches on his research paper. It was just the first in a series of collated findings, but he’d still be glad to see it finished finally. Harry had been at the library all morning, which was not unusual. 

What was unusual, however, was the very grand entrance he made upon his return.

“LOUIS!” 

Louis jumped, sloshing some of his tea over the edge of his cup. “What?” He asked, laughing as he mopped up the spill with one of his sweater paws. 

“Louis!” Harry appeared in front of him, hair a mess and beaming from ear to ear. He was panting heavily, and he took a moment to fix the bow on his shirt before exclaiming, “Louis!” Once more. 

“Yes, Harry, I’m here!” Louis matched Harry’s excitement, then felt a little bad because he thought he’d gotten over almost treating him like a dog. 

“The library offered me a job!” Harry wheezed out. His dimples were practically craters in his face. 

“Really?” Louis shot to his feet. The excitement in his voice was genuine this time. 

“Yes! They said that they got approved for a council grant and it was because of all the new members my bi-weekly readings are bringing! So Mrs. Nicks, the head librarian, said they could pay me $15 an hour for my reading sessions!”  
  
Louis didn’t want to ruin Harry’s excitement by pointing out that that really wasn’t very much money, especially considering ‘money’ was one of the few concepts that still evaded Harry.

“Wow! Congratulations, Hazza!” Louis pulled Harry into a hug on instinct. It wasn’t until Harry hesitantly put his arms around Louis’ waist that Louis remembered just how long it had been since he’d hugged Harry. Or even properly talked to him. Louis squeezed Harry tighter, and Harry fell into the embrace. He shoved his head into Louis’ neck and rested most of his weight on Louis.    


They stayed hugging for far longer than was normal for a congratulatory hug. Louis only pulled back when he caught himself accidentally taking a deep inhale of Harry’s hair. 

“Well, you know what this calls for,” he said, clearing his throat.   
  
“What?” Harry asked eagerly.

“A celebration dance!” Louis threw his hands in the air, then demonstrated briefly by doing the hand movements from the Grease Lightning dance. 

Harry blinked, then grinned. “Do I get to pick the song?” 

“Well obviously, Harold, it’s _your_ news we’re celebrating.” Louis started putting his research away so he could push the coffee table to the side, turning the living room into an impromptu dance floor. Meanwhile, Harry clicked away on Louis’ laptop.

A song started playing, a generic drum clap with an odd tambourine effect layered on top. 

“What song is this?” Louis asked. It sounded familiar. Harry just grinned at him cunningly.

“Seriously, Haz, what—“

The beat dropped. Harry grinned.

“Harry!” Louis cried, outraged. The dumb electronic riff of Shooting Stars by Bag Raiders played on repeat. “I know you think this song is funny in the youtube videos, but I’m not fucking dancing to it in the comfort of me own home!” 

Harry started shimmying to the beat.   
  
“No.”

Harry shimmy-danced over. 

“Absolutely not.”  
  
Harry employed some frankly quite creative dance moves right in front of Louis’ face. They mostly involved uncoordinated and oddly angular arm movements.

_Gave my love to a shooting star but she moves so fast that I can’t keep up,_ contributed Bag Raiders. 

Harry grabbed Louis’ hands and started swinging them along to the song. 

Louis’ poker face broke, and he giggled. 

“I hate you,” he said, then twirled Harry. He had to stand on his tiptoes for Harry to fit under his arm, but the look of glee on his face was definitely worth it. 

They spent the rest of the song dancing around the living room in the goofiest possible ways. Harry hadn’t exactly seen much dancing aside from the Cherry Tree, so any little manoeuvres Louis could pull out from his repertoire impressed him greatly. His favourite was the big fish little fish cardboard box dance from Bob the Builder, which was what they were both still doing as the final notes of the song faded out. 

Harry collapsed in a pile of giggles onto the couch. Louis watched him fondly, not really paying attention to the next song as it started playing. 

Harry apparently was, though. His breathing evened out, and he nervously glanced at the laptop. The song was soft, slow. Subtle electric keyboard underlined mellow singing. Louis definitely didn’t recognise it. 

Harry looked up at him and blinked delicately. His voice was hushed when he spoke, the humour of a minute ago gone. “Would you like to dance with me, Louis?”

“Yes,” said Louis honestly.

Harry stood carefully and reached for his hands. “Is this how—“ he started. 

Louis interrupted him by folding his arms around Harry’s neck. In response, Harry awkwardly placed his hands on Louis’ hips. He had to hunch slightly to make the angle work, so Louis stood on his tiptoes. 

Harry frowned at his feet in concentration as they danced around the room, taking small steps. It was almost a waltz—or, it could have been if either of them really knew how to waltz. 

“This is nice, Harry,” Louis whispered. 

Harry looked down at him. A lilting melody played over the chorus of the song, bright and sweet. 

Harry smiled. 

_Somewhere in these eyes, I’m on your side_

_You wide eyed girls, you get it right_

_Fall back into place, fall back into place._

 

@.@

 

“Harry!” Louis called, barging into the apartment. He had a grin on his face and a box in his arms

“What?” Harry’s head perked up at the sudden noise. He looked bleary-eyed, floating in the air above the dining table and sorting through an impressive selection of children’s books. 

“I got you a present!” Louis cried, shaking the box in his hands. It made a few metallic noises. 

“What is it?” Harry asked excitedly, scrambling to get down. 

“What? I can’t tell you that, it’s a surprise.” 

Harry pouted. 

“Just open it, Starbaby,” Louis said, putting the box in the table. 

Harry poked at it curiously, then sniffed it. With a suspicious squint over his shoulder at Louis, he pulled the box open. 

Inside was a very dusty typewriter.

“Oh, a… Thing,” Harry said, clearly pretending to be pleased. 

Louis scratched at his stubble nervously. “It’s actually a typewriter, H. Like… you put paper in—“ Louis grabbed a sheet of paper from the table to demonstrate with. “Then you press the letters, and voila!” He typed out a small, shitty ‘hi!’. The typewriter wasn’t exactly in the best condition. 

Harry’s eyes lit up. He ran his hand over it in wonder, dislodging some of the dust. 

Louis started coughing, and Harry sent him an apologetic look. He pressed a few keys experimentally, spelling out ‘o-o-p-s’. Then, he grinned over at Louis. 

Louis huffed. “Before you go thanking me, just know that I found it by accident today in the basement while I was putting away some equipment. It was buried under a shit-ton of dust and rat shit, so—“

Harry cut him off by pressing his lips to Louis’. 

It was remarkably effective. 

The kiss only lasted for a split-second—Louis didn’t even have time to close his eyes—and then Harry was gone, dragging the typewriter with him over to the window to show Dolores. 

Louis was left standing there, gaping. 

He pressed a disbelieving hand to his tingling lips. 

He had to clear his throat a couple times before any sound came out. “Harry,” he said hoarsely. 

Harry looked over. He still looked delighted by the typewriter, but as Louis scanned his face he could see no indication that Harry had understood the significance of what he’d just done. 

“Yes?” He asked, dimpling.   
  
“Nothing,” said Louis. He walked (quite calmly) into his room, and didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

 

@.@

 

It was Friday night. Again. And Louis was in the kitchen pretending to make tea. Again.

“Zayn, could you come here a minute!” He called into the living room. 

Zayn glared at him from where he’d been interrupted talking with Harry. All the boys were parked on the couch playing Fifa, but Harry and Zayn had been distracted from the game ever since Harry mentioned the children’s book he’d been writing on his new typewriter. Zayn had a bunch of ideas, of course, and Liam and Niall took turns kicking some digital footballs around and throwing out ridiculous possible plot points. 

As wonderful as that all was, it was definitely Zayn’s turn on Louis Duty. And Louis needed someone on Louis Duty.

This past week he’d felt like he was constantly one second away from doing something stupid and reckless like, say, asking Harry _why the fuck he kissed him._

Zayn made his way into the kitchen on his own time. Louis had made about five extra cups of tea at this point, so he handed a couple to him. 

“Here’s your tea, now listen to my bitching,” He said. 

Harry snorted from the living room. Louis turned to glare at him suspiciously, but he seemed very engrossed in the game.

Zayn sipped his tea. “It’s cold.”  


“Yes of course it’s cold, Zayn, I’ve been waiting for you in here for two hours!” Louis hissed.

Zayn blinked. “What.” 

Louis threw a teabag at him. 

Zayn jumped out of the way easily, but spilt one of his teas. “Well if you’re just gonna yell at me I think I’ll go back to the Fifa, thanks.”

Louis took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Zayn. Here, have another tea.”

Zayn took it resentfully, balancing all three mugs against his chest. 

“Zayn.” Louis began, hopping onto the counter. “Harry kissed me.”

Zayn didn’t react. Louis was sort of hoping for at least one of the teas to get dropped, but he probably should have accounted for Zayn’s _Zaynness._

“And?” He asked. 

“AND?” Louis screeched, then looked nervously over his shoulder. The boys were still playing Fifa, but Louis lowered his voice anyway. “That’s the first time that’s happened, Zayn.”

This time, he did react. “What?” He asked. His voice was tinged with hysteria, and he juggled the teas a little to keep from dropping them. “You mean you haven’t kissed yet? But…”

Louis squinted. “But what, Zayn.”  


Zayn flinched at his tone, putting down the mugs finally. “It’s just that… I proper thought you guys were together already.”

“Why on earth would you think that, Zayn?” Louis asked exasperatedly.

Zayn gave him a dry look. “Because you act like you are. Duh.”

Louis glanced over at the boys again. They seemed to have graduated onto Mario Kart. Harry was, miraculously, winning by a landslide. His cute pout of concentration was broken when he seemed to notice Louis’ gaze. He turned his head and beamed. Liam threw a blue shell while he was distracted and soared into first place. Harry didn’t even react. He was just gazing at Louis unblinkingly. 

“See!” Zayn hissed from Louis’ left. 

Louis blinked, and snapped his head towards him. “Fuck off,” he muttered darkly. “I don’t know why I was excited for your turn, you’ve been no help at all.”

Zayn frowned. “What help do you even need, Louis? He loves you back, anyone with eyes can see that. What exactly is the problem?” 

“He doesn’t love me,” Louis denied immediately. “I was the first human he ever met, Zayn, what are the chances that we’d be good for each other? He can’t—the world is huge, and—“

Louis’ words were getting all jumbled together, his breathing rapid. 

“Hey, hey, Louis, it’s alright,” Zayn soothed, pulling him into a hug. “Just breathe for a bit, ‘kay? I’m sorry.”

Louis did as he said, clinging so tight to Zayn that he almost fell off the counter. 

Louis heard a low humming noise from the doorway. He looked up to see Harry standing there, a deep groove between his brows. 

“I’m okay, Haz,” he got out. 

Harry stared accusingly at Zayn as he walked over, still vibrating concernedly. 

Zayn put his hands up in surrender. 

He shot one last look at Louis before leaving the room. 

Louis scrubbed a hand down his face. He really needed to shave. 

_“_ I said I was okay.”

Harry walked over to him slowly. His hair was up in a messy bun held together with a pen. He reached a careful hand over to Louis, placing it on his neck.  


“You’re not.”

Louis frowned. Harry’s tone was so certain.

It reminded him of something half-formed in his brain, a thought he hadn’t quite realised he’d had. 

He blinked a few times disconcertedly. 

“How…How do you know that, Harry?” He asked timidly, almost afraid of the answer.  


Harry matched his frown, tilting his head to the side. “I can tell?” He said uncertainly. 

Louis tried to keep his breathing even. 

“You can tell.” He repeated.

“Rnnn,” Harry confirmed nervously. 

“Is this… Harry. Do you mean that you can tell how I’m feeling in a normal guessing way or that you actually _know?”_

Harry shook his head. “Is there a difference?”

Louis stared into his eyes. He thought of Harry’s face when he cut his hand open. _Is that not normal?_

“I guess not.” He said finally.


	9. Chapter 9

_Those days taught me everything I know_

_How to catch a feeling, and when to let it go_

_How all the scheming, soulless creatures_

_Can’t find dreamer’s honey in the hive_

_If it’s right beneath the nose._

\- Alien Days, MGMT

 

 

It was the next morning. Harry had been typing away at his typewriter frantically all morning, only stopping every once in a while to send searching glances Louis' way. For his part, Louis had been jittery. He’d been doing odd spots of tidying—restless busywork, mostly. Now he was staring out the kitchen window, cold tea in hand. It was a habit he'd unfortunately picked up since Zayn had put the idea in his head that the MI5 were watching them at all hours. Today was the first day he'd actually been able to spot anything out of the ordinary.

There was a nondescript black SUV parked on the street. It hadn’t moved all day.

Abruptly, the noises of Harry's typewriter ceased. Louis turned to see Harry watching him openly.

"Louis," he started. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Louis breath caught in his throat. "Um."

Harry rose from the table, making a neat stack from the papers he'd been working on all morning.

He looked up once he was done, waiting.

Louis put the tea down on the windowsill. Dolores came over to inspect it, then picked at Louis' hand gently. Louis smiled thinly at her.

"Harry," Louis started. "Do you know what being in love means?"

Harry scowled. "Of course I do."

Louis fiddled with his beanie. "Well."

He cut himself off.

He took a small step closer to Harry. Always small steps, it seemed. 

He looked into Harry’s green eyes and put the van out of his mind. He put everything out of his mind, except the words he was about to say. He’d held them in so long at this point that they felt like they might tear him apart from the inside if he didn’t let them free.

"Well, what's wrong is that I'm in it. I'm in love. With you. I’m in love with you.”

The words felt ripped from Louis' chest, and they hung in the air like icicles. At least, they did for all of three seconds. Then Harry started to smile. It was the sort of smile that started at the corner of his lips, then extended slowly—so slowly—across the rest of his face until it consumed him. He was radiant.

"Yes. I know." He said simply, like it was nothing but a wonderful, wonderful fact.

Louis grit his teeth. "What do you mean you _know_?"

Harry was still smiling, but it dimmed slightly. He reached an uncertain hand towards Louis. 

”I know because we're in love." 

Louis choked.

Harry paused. He tilted his head, suddenly uncertain. 

"Aren't we in love?” 

He sounded so lost.

_That makes two of us,_ Louis thought. Tears of shock stung at his eyes. 

He didn't even know what to say to that, was the problem. 

Harry looked between Louis and Dolores. He cooed something at her, and it sounded almost plaintive.

"I don’t—Harry, you—“ Louis tried. He couldn't really make his brain work. "You love me?"

Harry blinked heavily. "You mean you… don't know that?"

"Of course I don't know that, Harry! It's not like you've bloody told me!" Louis exploded. 

The frustration that had been building up this past week, this past month, spilled over. He ran a frantic hand through his hair, knocking the beanie off and sticking it up all over the place. 

"You say these things sometimes like I'm supposed to know them already, and it's so confusing. You—you’re an alien, and that's so bloody _mad_ that I sometimes question my own sanity, and you're just here. You weren't here, and then you were, and my life has been turned on its head in the most wonderful and awful ways, and you can do so many things that terrify me and I'm pretty sure you can't get older and now you're telling me you love me and asking me if I didn't fucking know that, what--"

As Louis words spilled out of his mouth—helpless as the man was to stop them—Harry shrunk further and further in on himself. 

"Okay." The word was uttered so softly, but Louis still paused his tirade at the sound of it.

Harry looked up from the floor, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll just... Go."

Louis' eyes were wide. "No, Harry, wait—“ but it was too late. Harry had already made his way to the door and out of the apartment.

Louis stood there in shock for a moment. 

Dolores cooed judgementally from the window. Louis whipped around to her angrily, then deflated at the site of her vacant beady eyes. 

“I know, Dolores. I keep fucking things up, huh?"

She cooed.

He stared at her for a while, trying to take even breaths so he wouldn’t start crying. 

Then, he sat down heavily at the dining room table. His hand searched for his phone to call—someone, anyone. Instead, he found the stack of paper Harry had been working on. He laughed brokenly, making to push it away. Then, his eyes caught something. He rushed to pull the stack towards him.

On the centre of the front page was typed two neat words: _For Louis_.

Louis rushed to flip the page over, eyes scanning the words urgently. It was... Well, it was a story.It was formatted like one of the children’s books Harry read, each page complete with a careful illustration.

_Once upon a time_ , it started, _there was a being. This being wasn't like anything on earth because they weren’t from Earth. They were from somewhere else, somewhere far away. And they floated through space, all alone. They were born some amount of time ago—time is a very human thing, you see, and they hadn’t learnt it yet._

_Still, they were very happy making their way across the universe. They knew that they were headed somewhere important, after all. They knew this just like the way that you know there's a sun in the sky or how you know how to breathe. They knew that they had been made out of love, and one day they were going to get to make a being of their own, too. First, though, they had to find someone. Someone very, very important. The being didn't know who this someone was, if it was just one someone, what they looked like, or even how to find them. They just knew that they would, eventually. So they floated around and learned about all kinds of things, things that are hard to explain in human words._

_Eventually had to happen sooner or later. That’s how it works, after all. And so it did. One day—not that they really knew about days yet—they felt something. It was what they had been waiting to feel as long as they had existed. It was the feeling of their someone. They were made happier than they'd even been, and followed the feeling. They followed it all the way to a planet. It was blue and green, which was perfect because they were green and all they knew about their someone was that they felt very blue._

_They flew down and down and down, following the feeling. It ended at the edge of a land mass. In water. Land and water were new things, for the being. They settled into the waves patiently. Their someone wasn't here yet, but they were very good at waiting. And eventually their someone did come. He came in a boat with some other humans—because he was a human, you see—and he came right up to the being and pressed a hand to them and… It was the most at home they had ever felt._

_And so, they made Harry. And then they_ were _Harry. And Harry felt a great many things in his new human body that were confusing and exciting and wonderful. Harry learned all about humans, and how to be one, with his someone by his side. His someone was called Louis, and he was more perfect than Harry had ever envisioned in all his travels. He was funny, and strong, and kind, and sweet. Most of all, he loved Harry. Harry could feel it every day, growing and growing in Louis' chest._

_And of course Harry sometimes missed his travels through the cosmos, but there was even more travelling to be done on Earth. So many things to see and people to meet. Not everything was perfect, and sometimes things were hard; Harry didn't really fit in with the humans very well, after all. There were so many silly rules he had to follow, and so much to learn. But, even through all of that, he loved his someone very much. And they loved him._

Louis was interrupted from the story by a brisk knock on the door. He sniffled, looking up. He stood unsteadily and wiped the tears from his cheeks. With a croaky voice, he called, "who is it?"

"MI5. Open up."

Louis snorted tiredly, pulling the door open.

"Mr. Tomlinson, I think it's about time we talked honestly," said Agent Thirlwall. She looked sympathetic.

Agent Nelson was as stony as ever. "We know about Harry, Louis. Let us in."

Louis backed away from the door. 

"What exactly do you think you know?" He asked, silently daring them to say it. 

The agents exchanged a loaded glance, stepping into the apartment after Louis and closing the door firmly.

"We know he is of extra-terrestrial origin, and that you've been harbouring him."

Louis froze.

Agent Thirlwall smiled thinly. "We just want to talk, Louis."

Louis crossed his arms, standing to his full height. He might have been more impressive if it wasn’t so obvious he’d been crying a second ago, but that wasn’t going to stop him. 

”You can talk, but I don't have to listen. And it won't matter, anyway. You can bring the full force of whatever bullshit backup you have down on me, but there's no way you're taking Harry from me."

The agents blinked, but Louis wasn't done.

"He's a good fucking person. He's better than the both of you, and he’s better than me. He belongs exactly where he wants to be, and you're going to have to kill me if you want to hurt him because there's no way I'm about to let that happen."

“Louis—“ Agent Thirlwall started. Agent Nelson put a quieting hand on her shoulder. 

Louis stood his ground, resolute.

Agent Nelson looked at Louis, considering. Then she did something Louis had never seen her do; she removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were surprisingly earnest. 

"We came here today to tell you that we're going to leave him alone."

Louis' breath caught in his throat.

"We've been watching you both, Louis. We know he's nonviolent, and not a threat to the United Kingdom. As part of a field assessment team, it's our job to observe and report any extraterrestrial activity. Off the record, however..." She stopped and smiled at her partner. "We help people. Well, we help aliens who intend to be people. There's quite a few benevolent species, and although Harry is definitely a new one for us, we can recognise when government intervention is not required. We haven't informed our supervisors about Harry other than his ship that we found, and we aren't going to.”

Agent Thirlwall took his hand comfortingly. Louis started at her, disbelieving. 

"You and Harry are free to live your lives now, Louis."

“Well, provided you agree to yearly checkups and noninvasive monitoring of your activities,” added Agent Nelson.

Perhaps it was the stress of the day (or the past few months, even). Perhaps it was what Louis had just read. Perhaps it was the earnestness in the agents eyes, and the immense relief Louis felt at their words. No matter what it was, Louis burst into a gasping sob.

Agent Nelson offered him a slightly crumpled tissue from her pocket, which really just made Louis cry harder. 

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to say, “and I agree, but will you kindly get the fuck out of my flat now?”

Agent Thirlwall snorted, patting him one last time on the arm before dragging her partner out of the apartment.

Louis waited until the door was closed, then sunk to the ground. 

He took a good ten minutes (maybe thirty) to collect himself, then he took another ten minutes to collect his phone from whatever trousers he’d left it in. Then, finally, he called Niall. 

“Tommo? Are you okay?” Niall’s voice sounded concerned.

Louis took a shuddering breath in. “I’m… It doesn’t matter. Have you seen Harry?”

There was a loaded pause.

“Nah, mate. Did you check your roof yet?”

Throughout the course of their friendship, Louis had learned a great many things about Niall. One of them was what he sounded like when he was lying. 

“Ni, just. Will you tell him I’m coming to talk to him, and that I’m sorry?”

Niall huffed a laugh. “Yeah, alright. But if he doesn’t want to speak to you, you know I’m not gonna let you in.”

Louis smiled tearily at the wall. “I know, mate. You’re a good friend.”

He hung up before Niall could reply. He looked around the apartment, all the remnants of Harry strewn on every surface. 

He thought about the story, and the last few months. He thought about how much he’d like to keep Harry. Be the _someone_ that Harry had thought he was. 

Then, he gathered a few things and walked calmly out the door. 

For the first time in a long time, it felt like he knew exactly what to do. 


	10. Chapter 10

_Our hopes and expectations_

_Black holes and revelations._

_Hold you in my arms,_

_I just wanted to hold_

_You in my arms._

\- Starlight, Muse

 

 

When Louis knocked on Niall’s door a couple hours later, he was met with muffled cursing. After a few moments, the door was wrenched open by a harried looking Niall, glasses askew and eyes wild. 

“Louis!” He said, lighting up. “Harry found a family of rats in my wall and he’s been talking to them sulkily about bleak things for an hour, thank fuck you’re here.”

Niall reached a hand to Louis, ready to pull him inside. Then, he stopped himself. 

“Hazza?” He called over his shoulder, fixing his glasses. “Louis’ here, he wants to talk to you.”  


Louis fluttered a nervous hand up to his fringe as he waited for Harry’s reply. None came for several long moments, and then a small rat appeared by Niall’s foot. Niall jumped back, yelling. 

When he was a safe distance away, he put a hand over his heart like the 80 year old man he secretly was.

“Right, well, I’ll just go then,” he said, grabbing a hat and his keys. “You boys talk it out, alright?” 

As sincere as his command probably was, it was hard to miss the distraction in his voice as he neatly stepped around the small rat and fled down the stairs. 

For its part, the rat simply sat down and sniffed at the air. 

“Hi,” said Louis, kneeling in front of it. “Will you please tell Harry that I’m really sorry? If you can even understand me, that is. Bet you think I’m a right git, huh.” 

The rat blinked a few times, then scurried away. Louis snorted deprecatingly.

The rat turned its head to look back at Louis as if to check if he was following, so Louis stood hastily and scrambled after it. 

He followed it to a door, which he pushed open uncertainly. 

Inside was Harry. He was sitting on the floor next to Niall’s bed, an open container of ice cream to his left. His back was against the wall, and his eyes were red-rimmed, and he had a family of very mangy-looking rats in his lap. The small rat ran back up to him and gently nibbled his toe. Harry smiled at it softly. He still hadn’t looked up at Louis.

Louis closed the door behind him gently. He padded over to Harry, sitting down in front of him. Harry still didn’t look up. 

His silence was pointed, heavy. 

Louis cleared his throat. He pushed the backpack he’d brought of his shoulder, letting it thump to the ground. Harry’s eye twitched at the noise. 

Determinedly, Louis reached inside and started pulling out the things he’d brought. First, he set a candle down in front of Harry. After lighting the candle, a soft vanilla smell started to fill the room. 

Harry’s nose twitched. 

Next, Louis set a small dish of pasta down in front of Harry. The smell of it wouldn’t really mix that well with the candle, so he left the lid on, but…it was more about the symbol, really. 

On top of the dish he placed a single, shitty rose. It was the best he could find at this hour. 

After that came Harry’s manuscript. This made Harry pause in the petting he’d been doing of the rats on his lap. Next to the manuscript Louis put his iPod. He pressed play on the track that was loaded up, and the tinny guitar of Starman by David Bowie started playing. 

Harry’s lips twitched. 

“Harry.” Louis took his hands gently in his own, and Harry let him. 

His gaze caught on Louis’ nails, and his eyes widened. 

He captured Louis’ hands in a firm grasp, inspecting them. Louis smiled down at them as well. 

One hand was painted blue, and the other green. Though Louis had done Harry’s nails a few times, he’d never been much good at doing his own. It was Lottie’s handiwork that Harry was staring at with awe now. 

Harry’s gaze travelled up Louis’ arms, taking in Louis’ appearance with growing wonder. Louis licked his lips nervously, unable to fidget with Harry’s hands still holding his. 

Harry just stared. 

Louis was wearing one of Harry’s dresses. It was quite big on him, falling off one shoulder a little. It was the one he’d worn that day Louis visited him at the library during his reading. He’d also asked Lottie to put light makeup on him, mostly just eyeshadow that matched the nail polish. The odd looks he’d gotten on the bus ride over had given him a new respect for Harry’s confidence, but also a small amount of insight into the insecurities he’d been having about not fitting in. It was a paradox, Louis had thought, to care so much about what people thought and also to not care at all. He understood it a little better now, he hoped. 

Harry’s grip on Louis’ hands was getting bruising, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Harry.” Louis said again. 

Harry looked at him. His eyes were shining with tears, but there was still a guardedness to his gaze. 

“Louis.” He replied, measured. “You look very nice.”

Louis smiled. “I read your book.”

Harry’s gaze flickered to the side. “It’s not finished yet,” he said defensively. 

The last notes of Starman faded out, and the silence was deafening.   
  
Harry looked like he was about to pull away, when the next song started. 

_Hold on now, this is getting kinda serious. This is getting kinda out of control._

It was Favourite Colour. 

Harry stared at the iPod blankly.

Louis cleared his throat. “I love you.”

Harry snapped his head up. 

Louis raised his eyebrows, smiling. “I’m in love with you. Every single part of you. All of it. The beautiful parts, the strange parts, the scary parts, the wonderful parts. And I want to be with you more than I’ve wanted anything ever before. And I’m not scared of it, or of you. I need you to know that.”

Harry sniffed, a few tears escaping. He mumbled something unintelligible, than lifted one of his and Louis’ still-joined hands to wipe at his face. 

“What did you say, darling?” Louis asked softly. 

Harry blinked a few times, meeting his gaze rawly. “Did you read until the end?”

Louis frowned, then looked down at the manuscript.   
  
“No,” he said honestly, shaking his head.

Harry made to pull away. Louis held on. 

“I don’t care how it ends, Harry. We haven’t gotten there yet, yeah? And there’s no possible way you could tell me anything that’s going to change my mind.”   


Harry looked like he didn’t believe him. 

“It could say that Harry turned into a giant tentacle monster for the rest of his life and I would still love you.”

Harry giggled without meaning to. 

“I’m serious, Starbaby. Will you come home with me?”

Harry bit his lip at the word ‘home’. 

“I know you can tell I mean it.” Louis lifted Harry’s hand to splay over his heart through the thin silk of the dress. “Can’t you tell?”  
  
Harry rubbed his thumb against the material. He nodded mutely. The most wonderful look was starting to take over his face. It was a look of pure hope. Pure joy.

“You love me. And you mean it.” His words weren’t questions, but Louis nodded anyway. “And you want to keep me.”

“I do.”

Harry leapt into motion, pouncing on Louis. His knee knocked over the candle and the rest of the things Louis had brought, but the flame went out before it hit the ground. The rats, too, were sent scurrying away, squeaking in protest.

Harry landed on top of Louis, immediately lifting himself up on his elbows. He was grinning from ear to ear, and his dimples were so deep Louis could drown in them. 

Louis’ breath was still caught in his throat from the force of being knocked back, but he looked up at Harry adoringly nonetheless. 

Harry placed a hand on Louis’ cheek, bicep bulging from the strain of keeping himself up. Louis turned his face into the hand, licking it playfully.  
  
Harry buried his giggle in Louis’ neck then rubbed his face against Louis’ scruff.

“I love you too,” he mumbled into Louis’ ear. 

Louis wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“And I mean it.” 

Louis nudged his nose against Harry’s.

“And I want to keep you.”   
  
Louis kissed him.

Harry’s lips were soft, pillowy, but the kiss only lasted for a second before both boys were smiling too hard to keep it going. 

Louis tried to stop smiling, pursing his lips. Harry matched his expression, adopting a serious-looking scowl on his face for all of a second before they were laughing gleefully again. 

Harry peppered small kisses all over Louis’ face instead—careful not to mess up his makeup—and Louis squeezed him tight. 

Eventually the giddiness faded, and they were left looking at each other’s lips. 

Harry leaned down painfully slowly. Louis huffed, lifted his head to meet him halfway. This time, the kiss was long and sweet. Louis poured all of his heart into it, and it felt like Harry was doing the same. They got caught up in it, minutes felt like seconds. It got heated, the air getting thinner and the distance between their bodies getting smaller. 

Before Louis could give in to the instinct to rut up against Harry like a schoolboy, a small paw placed itself on his cheek. He tore his head back from the kiss, turning to see one of the rats. Louis went cross-eyed trying to look at it so close to his face. 

“Hello?” He said bemusedly. He poked one of Harry’s love handles questioningly.

Harry bit at his neck playfully, then made a high pitched sort of noise at the rat. It squeaked back happily, turning to leave after giving Louis a small lick to his nose in farewell. 

Louis watched it go.

When he finally looked up, it was to find Harry watching him. He was resting his head on his hand, other hand splayed across Louis’ chest.    


“You really do look lovely in my dress.” He rumbled. Louis blushed. 

“Thank you,” he responded haughtily. He splayed himself dramatically across the floor, making exaggerated bedroom eyes at Harry. 

“It was all for you, lover,” he rasped. Harry smiled sincerely, either missing the joking tone of Louis’ voice or—more likely—seeing past it into how deeply and genuinely he’d meant it. 

A cloud passed over Harry’s face, then. He traced a finger over the floral pattern of Louis’ dress contemplatively. 

“Can you…” he started, then paused. 

Louis reached a hand to brush some of Harry’s hair behind his ear, waiting for him to finish. 

“Can you really not feel what I feel?” His voice was anxious, searching.

Louis kissed him softly on the forehead, then on the nose. 

Harry leant into it, humming contently. 

“I really can’t, baby. That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.” Louis smiled sadly. 

Harry nodded, then paused. 

“But then… How did you know you could trust me? Why weren’t you scared, when we met? I thought it was because you could tell that I’d come for you, that you…knew.” He trailed off, glancing significantly at the manuscript splayed on the carpet. 

Louis pulled Harry’s head to his chest, stroking his hair while he thought. Harry nuzzled between his hand and his chest.

“Even though I don’t think I can feel how you’re feeling—not like you mean it, anyway—I think I could still tell that you were good. And that you needed my help. And then…I got to know you.” 

He flipped them over gently, settling on Harry’s chest. “And I fell in love.”

Harry beamed. It only lasted for a moment before he was frowning again, though. 

“Baby,” he started. Louis tried not to look ridiculously, utterly besotted at being called that by Harry. “If you didn’t know… That… It didn’t freak you out? The book?” He stuttered out. 

Louis sat up, pulling Harry with him. He laid his hands on either side of Harry’s face, squishing him a little. He got distracted by the cute pout it caused, and then obviously he had to kiss Harry again for several minutes. By the time he remembered Harry’s question, both of them were flushed and panting.   
  
Louis cleared his throat. “No, love,” he started. “It didn’t freak me out. Not at all. And it’s a bit mental that it didn’t, because you basically said I was your intergalactic soulmate or something, but—“

Harry barked out a laugh. “That’s exactly what it is, Louis.” He said very seriously. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me. Actually, it does matter.” 

Harry looked alarmed, so Louis rushed to finish. 

“It matters because now I know that you meant to chose me, and that I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

If possible, Harry grew more alarmed at the suggestion that Louis had ever doubted this. Louis decided the best way to reassure him was to plant himself in his lap and kiss him until he couldn’t ever be sad again, which is what he then attempted. 

It worked for at least an hour, which was when Niall came home and very loudly kicked them out of his bedroom (despite the fact that they never even made it to the bed so neither of them really saw what all the fuss what about). 

After a much too long bus ride (where Louis got more than a few stares that made Harry curl around him protectively, but also a few compliments), they stumbled into Louis’ apartment. Louis paused in the doorway uncertainly, looking up at Harry with a question in his eyes. 

Harry looked back at him, blinked, then pulled them both into the bedroom. 

“I get to sleep next to you every night but I never get to _touch_ you,” he grumbled, pushing Louis (gently) towards the bed.  
  
Louis laughed giddily. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” He sprawled backwards on the sheets, star fishing out.

“You get to take my shoes off, since you’re so eager,” he sniffed haughtily, wiggling his van-clad feet.

Harry just smiled, looking like there was nothing he’d rather do more. He knelt down at the foot of the bed and carefully untied Louis’ shoes. His long fingers worked deftly to pull them off his feet, and once he was done he leant down to press a soft kiss on the bone of Louis’ right ankle. Louis’ breath caught in his throat as Harry thumbed his triangle tattoo curiously. 

“I’ll tell you about it later, love,” he whispered. 

Harry looked up, a curve on his lips and stars in his eyes. 

“Later,” he repeated. 

Louis nodded, not really sure what he was agreeing to but committed nonetheless.

Harry stood and shed his own shoes and jeans somewhat clumsily. Louis hid his laugh behind his hand as Harry hopped around trying to get the last leg off, then tried to take off his jumper. 

“I’m the world’s sexiest man, I know,” Harry deadpanned from inside the hoodie he was stuck inside of. 

“You definitely are, Harold. A real stud,” quipped Louis, rising to help Harry. 

Together they pulled the hoodie off and Harry’s flushed face appeared. “Sorry,” he mumbled sincerely. 

Louis shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re perfect, as always.” 

Harry sniffed cutely. He smiled at his feet for a second, then tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. 

Louis watched as his body tensed, only having time to laugh out a loud “NO!—“ before Harry pounced on him, knocking him back into the bed. He cradled Louis’ head in one of his hands, jumping straight into kissing him before Louis could blink. 

Louis kissed back, of course, giggling against Harry’s mouth. 

Harry pulled off, looking down Louis’ body sadly. “I need to take the dress off,” he said mournfully. He ran a hand up Louis’ thigh, trailing along his skin underneath the hem. 

Louis melted into the bed. He tried to make his voice even, replying, “Go on then, Starbaby. Undress your man.”

Harry did as he was told, pulling the dress up and over Louis’ head. Once Louis’ chest was revealed, he nuzzled his cheek all over it.   
  
Louis huffed a laugh. “That tickles,” he mumbled. Harry nibbled the swell of his stomach in reply.

Then, he raised himself to rest on his elbows. He stared down at Louis’ pants-clad dick (which was well on the way to hard by now, to no one’s surprise). The look on his face was the same look when he couldn’t figure out a guitar chord, or forgot the word for something. 

Louis smoothed a hand through his curls comfortingly. “I know you haven’t done this before, Haz. We can go slow.”    


Harry shook his head determinedly, almost dislodging Louis’ hand. “I want to. Wanna be close to you,” he nuzzled his cheek into Louis’ dick like he’d done his chest, “the way humans do it.” His words were muffled. 

Louis’ breath was coming out in pants, and his hand tightened in Harry’s hair. 

“Okay,” he choked out. 

He felt Harry smile, then press a kiss to his length. “Will you tell me how?” He asked, looking up finally. 

Louis licked his lips. “Sure, baby. Take my pants off first.”

Harry rushed to comply, tugging Louis’ boxers off and throwing them on the floor. He spent several long seconds just looking at Louis’ dick, then several more once he’d moved his head right back up to it. 

“It’s not gonna bite, Harry,” Louis laughed fondly. 

Harry poked his tongue out at him childishly. 

“You will need that, yes,” Louis confirmed, then laughed. 

Harry shook his head disapprovingly. “Please be serious, Louis, this is very important to me.” 

If it hadn’t have been for the cheeky twist to his lips Louis might have felt bad. 

“Alright, sassy, if you’re such an expert go ahead,” Louis shot back, tucking his hands behind his head and getting comfortable. 

Harry didn’t respond. Instead, he wrapped one of his hands around the base of Louis’ dick, bringing the head to his lips and licking sweetly. 

Louis moaned at the sight, and Harry preened. 

Then, obscenely, he took Louis’ entire cock into his mouth. 

“Fuck!” Louis cursed, gripping the headboard.

Harry made a noise of concern around Louis’ dick—one of the rumbling, vibrating noises he sometimes made. Louis squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure. 

“Keep going,” he choked out as he felt Harry pull off. 

Harry took his time licking every inch of Louis’ dick. From anyone else it would’ve been a little too much, but this was _Harry._ At this point Louis was ready to admit that there wasn’t much he could do that Louis would be unhappy with. 

Eventually he settled properly between Louis’ legs, spreading them for better access. Louis gripped his hair, and Harry moaned the tighter he pulled. He got a rhythm going, using his hand and his mouth, and sooner than Louis would like he was on the edge of coming. 

“Harry,” he panted, “pull off, love, I’m gonna come.”  
  
Harry sunk further down on Louis’ dick in response. Louis’ eyes rolled back into his head as Harry used his other hand to massage his balls then press an experimental finger against his hole.

“Fuck—“ Louis stuttered out, helpless to control himself as he thrust into Harry’s (apparently unchokeable) mouth and came. 

Harry moaned as he swallowed it all, pulling off to lap at Louis’ spent dick eagerly. 

Louis tried to get his breathing back under control, still dealing from the strength of his orgasm. He clumsily used the hand still in Harry’s hair to smooth it away from his face and scratch at his scalp. 

Harry smiled up at him, looking angelic between Louis’ legs. 

“Did you like it?” He rumbled. 

Louis snorted at the ceiling. “Did I like it?” He asked back sarcastically. “Yes, Harry, I did. Thank you for your service."  


Harry nodded seriously. 

Louis smiled down at him, levity slipping away. “You did really well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” 

Harry made his way up Louis’ body to kiss him. Louis could taste himself on his tongue. It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

“Come on, let me—“ Louis said, breaking the kiss and rushing to push Harry’s pants down. 

Harry buried his moan in Louis’ neck. Louis was busy staring at Harry’s massive, flushed dick. 

“Shit…” he breathed, trailing his fingers over it. Harry bucked desperately into the touch, whimpering. 

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” Louis soothed, wrapping his hand around Harry’s cock. 

It fit so well in his hand. His own dick gave a feeble twitch at the sight.

Harry mouthed at his pulse as Louis pulled him off. He didn’t bother being slow or gentle; it was obvious Harry wanted neither of those things given the state of desperation he was in.

“Have you ever come before, Harry?” Louis whispered into his ear. Harry shook his head mutely, thrusting into Louis’ hand in time with his pulls. “Let go for me, baby.”

Louis used his free hand to tweak one of his nipples, and Harry froze. Then he moaned so loud the neighbours probably heard it, and came all over Louis’ hand and stomach. 

Louis pressed a proud kiss to the side of his face before looking down. 

Harry noticed Louis’ reaction to what he saw, pausing just before he collapsed tiredly into the bed. 

“What…” he asked, out of it. 

Louis stared down at the mess on his stomach and hands. Harry’s come was… well. 

It was glittery, first off. That was one thing it shouldn’t have been. 

There was also a fucking lot of it. 

Louis tried to purse his lips, but a hysterical laugh made it out of his mouth anyway. He rushed to clamp his hands over his mouth which resulted in him smearing some of the shiny fluid all over his face. It smelt like a sweet, strangely. A small lick also told Louis it tasted a lot like a sweet too.

Harry snapped his gaze up to Louis’. Louis was still trying to smother his giggles with his hands.

“Darling,” Harry drawled. He dipped a finger into the mess on Louis’ stomach, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean, then continued, “is something funny?” 

Louis shook his head from behind his hands. 

A few giggles escaped. 

Harry pulled Louis’ hands away from his face, licking those clean as well. Then he pressed his mouth to Louis’, smothering his laughs. Louis leant into the kiss, tilting his head up.

Harry broke the kiss to smile cheekily down at Louis. “I didn’t get to see yours properly. It’s such a pity, really. How would I know this isn’t normal?” 

There was nothing but innuendo in his eyes, but Louis responded sincerely. 

“It’s not normal, Harry, but it _is_ wonderful.”

Harry grinned.

Louis fumbled for his phone on the nightstand then took a quick snap of Harry’s smiling face rested on his stomach next to his glittering, slowly-drying come. 

“Not exactly wallpaper material, unfortunately,” he groused. 

Then, he pulled Harry up to take another photo. This time, it was Harry smiling at the camera and Louis’ pressing a loving kiss to his cheek. 

The good news about Harry’s magic space come was that it looked like glitter rather than semen in the photo. 

“I like that one,” Harry said. Louis nodded, then sent it off to Niall, Zayn and Liam. 

After that, he shut his phone off to avoid the inevitable flood of texts and calls it would provoke. 

“Let’s shower,” Harry suggested after a minute. 

He was curled into Louis’ side, looking not at all like he was prepared to stand up long enough for a shower. 

Louis snorted. He peeled himself away from Harry and fetched a wet cloth to wipe them both down with instead. 

Harry watched him do so with that creepy unblinking stare he did sometimes. Once Louis was done, he pulled him down onto the bed next to him before pulling the blankets over them both.

They lay on their sides just looking at each other for a while. 

Eventually, Louis spoke. “I love you.” 

Harry beamed, pulling him closer. “I love you too.”  
  
Louis buried his answering smile in the pillow.

Harry moved closer. 

He ran a hand up his back and whispered in his ear, as if recounting a precious secret, “I found you, Louis. I knew I would.” 

Then, he pulled away and turned around. 

Louis stared confusedly at the back of his head until Harry looked back at him and huffed, reaching for his arm to pull around himself. 

Louis settled against his back comfortably and smiled into his hair. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” he whispered. 

Harry’s even breaths were the only response he received. 


	11. Chapter 11

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Just listen to the rhythm of my heart_

_There’s a chance we could make it now_

_We’ll be rocking ’til the sun goes down_

_I believe in a thing called love._

\- I Believe In A Thing Called Love, The Darkness

 

 

“Louis! Pass us the fruit salad, will ya?” Niall called. 

Louis broke off the conversation he was having with Steve and practically chucked the Tupperware container at Niall. 

Niall caught it with a laugh, then turned back to whatever he’d been talking with Louis’ mum about. 

They were all at the beach today, having a picnic to celebrate the publication of Louis and Niall’s research paper. 

Beach was a generous term, really—it was more a sad collection of smallish pebbles. The sun was trying its best to heat up the water, but no one except Harry had dared to brave it yet. 

Louis’ family was all here, his mum and his siblings gathered around on the hastily-collected blankets they’d managed to scrounge up. Steve had been invited as well, along with Zayn and Liam. 

It had only been a month since Louis and Harry had officially gotten together, so today was the first time he’d had an opportunity to introduce him to his family. 

He’d taken it very well, completely charming through Louis’ awkward introduction. 

“This is Harry, my someone and also my boyfriend,” Louis had said. 

Harry’s smiles were genuine as he greeted every one of Louis’ sisters and Ernest. 

Jay had already been sold on Harry the minute Louis had told her more about him—“he reads to children for a living, and you’ve been keeping him from me?”—so she ignored the handshake he offered her by giving him a firm embrace and an invitation to baby-sit sometime. 

Harry, of course, said yes. The day had only gotten better since then. 

There’d been a short game of footie—Louis and Doris against Harry and Ernest, and everyone else making their own fun by placing bets. Louis and Doris had won, of course, but it almost wasn’t worth it from the way Ernest took his loss. The potential tantrum was cut off before Jay could even get to him, however, when Harry just picked him and calmly explained that losing was the best way to get better at things. Ernest had been attached to him for a good hour after that before Phoebe and Daisy distracted the younger twins with the task of making a sandcastle. (Pebble-castle, really). 

Now they were all digging into the feast they’d brought, toasting to success and a happy future. 

Louis dug into the cake Zayn had brought, distracted from his chat with Steve by watching Harry splash around in the water. 

He was just fucking about, really. There was no reason Louis should be so hypnotised. 

“Bro,” Steve laughed. “Your boy loves the water, huh?” 

Louis smiled at him. “Yeah. Don’t think he ever learned to swim, though, so I’m a little worried."  
  
Steve shook his head fondly, wrapping Louis under his arm. 

“He’ll be fine,” he said. Harry, seemingly in response to the platitude, was hit in the face by a wave and sent sputtering. 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Sure.” 

“Nah, for real though. He’s got you, and he’s fitting in fine. He’s gonna be okay here.”

Louis squinted at Steve suspiciously. Steve met his gaze with a sparkle in his eye. 

“Steve, you’re not an a—“ he started. 

“Louis!” Harry interrupted, running up the beach. He had something held behind his back, but Louis didn’t think much of it until Harry was right next to him and dumping a hat full of seawater all over his nice dry clothes. 

“You…. Absolute fuck,” Louis spat. Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek, high-fiving Lottie behind him. 

“Traitor!” Louis cried, pointing at her. Lottie just shrugged, still laughing. 

Harry put the wet hat on Louis’ head. 

It was much too small for him. Also, it was wet. 

“Talk later, Aoki, I’ve gotta go kill my boyfriend,” he muttered, chasing after Harry. 

Jay watched the scene unfold fondly. 

From next to her, Niall did the same. 

“Took ‘em a while to get here, you know,” he whispered to Jay conspiratorially. Zayn nodded from where he was laying in Liam’s lap on her other side. 

“Lack of communication,” he added wisely. 

“I dunno guys, I think they did alright considering…the circumstances.” Liam chipped in. 

“Circumstances?” Asked Lottie curiously. 

Niall, Zayn and Liam fish-mouthed for a second. It was Steve who saved them, in the end. 

“Harry had some problems with immigration because he wasn’t born here.” He punctuated his statement with a swig of beer. “Was a big mess for a bit there.”  


Niall nodded eagerly. “Yeah! But the government’s gonna leave him alone now. Everything’s sorted.”

Jay frowned. “So they didn’t know if Harry was going to get to stay here?” 

Zayn shoved a Dorito into his mouth, then spoke around it, “That’s pretty much it, yeah.”

“They’re alright now, though!” Said Liam. He gestured vaguely towards the shoreline, where Harry and Louis had roped Doris, Ernest, Phoebe and Daisy into their water antics. Their laughs were carried up the beach, echoing and joyful. 

“Yeah, they’re alright now.” Jay smiled. 


	12. Chapter 12

_I’ll lift you up, I’ll never stop_

_You know I’ll take you to another world.  
I’ll build you up, I’ll never stop_

_You know I’ll take you to another world._

\- Another World, One Direction

 

 

_Epilogue: One Year Later_

 

“I think it works better with a barre chord here,” muttered Harry, fiddling with his fingers on the fretboard. 

Louis hummed, making a note on his laptop. They were sitting on the couch. It was a warm Spring’s day, sunshine filling the apartment. 

Harry played the chord progression again, this time with his change. It did sound much better. 

Louis watched him as he frowned concentratedly at the guitar. In the past year, Harry’s popularity as a children’s entertainer had grown enormously. He still did small readings at all the local libraries, but he’d also started to bring his guitar along and have little concerts as well. He wrote songs for the children, and they loved them. They loved _him_. 

Today they weren’t writing a song for work, though. They were writing one just for them. 

“Love,” Louis interrupted softly. 

Harry paused. He smiled at Louis. “Yes?”

Louis pushed his socked feet underneath Harry’s thigh. Harry laid a hand on his ankle, thumbing his skin gently. 

Louis frowned. He was trying to find the words to ask something that he’d been trying to, on and off, for months. 

“How does the story end? Our story?” 

Harry looked confused for a second before his face cleared. 

“Oh.” He coughed. “Um…”

Louis rushed to say, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, baby, it’s just—“

“No,” Harry interrupted. He put his guitar on the ground gently, then stood up. He held his hand towards Louis. “I want to.”

Louis took it, letting Harry pull him up. Harry pulled them towards the bedroom. 

He crouched in front of the bed, shoving an arm underneath it.

“Aha!” He cried, pulling out a box. Louis didn’t recognise it. 

It was small, made from cardboard. It had pictures of flowers and bees glued all over it.

Harry sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him. 

Louis sat and watched as he opened the box. Inside was a treasure trove of memorabilia—ticket stubs for their first movie, their first museum, their first plane trip, their first _everything._ And their second, and third, and so on. Harry rustled through them all, digging to get to the bottom. 

When he tugged out the manuscript, there was a glaze over his eyes. He looked a little nervous and a lot determined, but mostly he looked…far away. 

“You can read it, or I can tell you.” He offered. 

Louis took the papers gently, then held them to his chest. “I’d like for you to tell me, please.”

Harry nodded. “Well, in the end, Harry and Louis are in love. And they are very happy together.”

Louis took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. When Harry continued, there was a smile on his face. 

“They lived as long as they wanted to, but eventually it was time to move on.” Harry’s voice was hypnotic. He’d gotten so much better at telling stories because of his job, and Louis could see why the children all loved him. 

“So, they said goodbye to all their friends and family. They kissed, one last time, and then they ascended.”

Louis waited patiently in the ensuing silence for Harry to find his voice again. 

“They flew up into the sky to be amongst the stars. They travelled together, and they saw the universe unfold as one. Eventually, they had travelled far enough and seen as much as they could see. So, they used their energy to make something new. A new life. And when that life started to exist, they ceased to. Their child would travel as far as they had, and find their someone. And then they would make a new life, and the cycle would continue on and on. For infinity.”

Harry cleared his throat once he was done. Louis blinked mistily at the wall, and in his silence Harry started to pack away the box. Once that was done, he kneeled in front of Louis. 

“It doesn’t have to end like that,” he whispered, taking Louis’ face in his hands. “We can chose a different path.”

“Harry,” Louis started. He lent his forehead against his, breathing deeply. “That was beautiful.”

Harry made a noise of disbelief.

“It was.” Louis said. “Does it mean that we’re going to become what you used to be?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “I would join our energies together, and we’d have a body like mine together.”

“Well… It’s gonna take me a few years to get used to that idea, I think,” Louis laughed. “But if it’s what we’re meant to do, then…”

Harry crawled into his lap. “No, Louis, it’s—It’s what _I_ was meant to do. I didn’t tell you because I don’t want you to think you have to. I know it’s pretty weird.” 

Louis wrapped his arms around his waist. “Yeah, it is pretty weird.” He snorted, then sobered up. 

“But if it means I’ll get to be with you on your terms, and I’d get to see where you came from, then of course I’ll do it.” 

Harry’s smile grew. He pressed a gentle kiss to Louis’ cheek, then his temple, then his nose. Louis stroked a hand down his back, pressing his face into Harry’s neck once he was done. 

“You gave up everything for me, darling. How could I not do the same?” 

The question was whispered against Harry’s skin, but of course Harry heard it anyway. He made a please rumbling noise in response. 

“I love you,” he said, squeezing Louis.

Louis squeezed back. “I know. Now get off me, you weigh a ton and we’ve got a song to write!”   
  
Harry barked out a laugh. He stood up. “I’m not heavy, you’re just really light.” He sassed back.

Louis’ indignant reply was cut off by Harry picking him up bridal-style to demonstrate his point. 

“Aha!” Louis cried, melting into the embrace. “My cunning plan has worked! Carry me to the couch.”

Harry stopped in the hallway. “You know what? Just for that, you’re not going to the couch.”  
  
Louis raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

Harry turned them back around towards the bedroom. 

Louis’ laugh echoed around the apartment. 

In the sky above, the stars twinkled along with it. 

They knew, after all, that Harry and Louis would be joining them soon enough. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_If I could begin to do_

_Something that does right by you_

_I would do about anything_

_I would even learn how to love_

_When I see the way you look_

_Shaken by how long it took_

_I could do about anything_

_I could even learn how to love_

_Like you._

\- Love Like You, Rebecca Sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you want, there's a fic post with art I made over at my [tumblr](http://graceling-in-a-suit.tumblr.com/post/172739934030/beautiful-strange-by-graceling-in-a-suit-thats) if you wanna reblog it!


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